THE  GIFT  OF 

FLORENCE  V.  V.  DICKEY 

TO  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


THE  DONALD  R.  DICKEY 

LIBRARY 
OF  VERTEBRATE  ZOOLOGY 


THE  BIRDS'  CALENDAR 


^P^R 

x 


CHICKADEES 


THE  BIRDS'  CALENDAR 


BY 

H.  E.  PARKHURST 


•  Minds  that  have  nothing  to  confer 
Find  little  to  perceive." 

Wordsworth 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 
1894 


'COPYRIGHT,  1894,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Prelude 1 

January 17 

February -43 

March 69 

April -97 

May      ....  135 

June 169 

July 191 

August 223 

September 251 

October 271 

November 287 

December •  299 

Postlude 337 

Index    .  .  345 


8—46:14 

550720 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 
Chickadees Frontispiece 

RACING 
PAGE 

Cardinal  Grosbeak 30 

Snow-birds 40 

White-breasted  Nuthatches 62 

Red  Crossbill 74 

Butcher-bird  (Northern  Shrike)     ...  84 

Golden-crowned  Kinglets 102 

Phoebe 114 

Black-crowned  Night  Heron      ....  122 
Black-throated  Green  Warblers     .    .    .130 

Belted  Kingfisher 142 

House  Wrens 158 

Rose-breasted  Grosbeak 164 

Night-hawk 186 

Baltimore  Oriole  and  Nest 198 

vii 


List  of  Illustrations 


Maryland  Yellow-throats  (Warblers)  .     .  204 

American  Goldfinches 216 

Spotted  Sandpiper 228 

Bank  Swallow 240 

Red-winged  Blackbird 254 

Downy  Woodpeckers 264 

Song  Sparrow 294 

Wood  Thrushes  and  Nest 310 

Humming-birds  and  Nest     .     .    .    .    .318 


viii 


Prelude 


"  The  birds,  great  nature's  happy  commoners, 
That  haunt  in  woods,  in  meads,  and  flowery  gardens, 
Rifle  the  sweets,  and  taste  the  choicest  fruits." 

Rowe. 


PRELUDE 

IRNITHOLOGY  is  weii-nigh  the 

humblest  member  in  the  fraternity 
of  Natural  Sciences.  It  has  little 
or  no  recognition  in  school  or  col- 
lege, and  hitherto  has  excited  comparatively 
little  general  interest.  It  is  accounted  a  sur- 
prising thing  when  a  person  is  found  who  can 
speak  intelligently  in  regard  to  a  dozen  of  the 
very  commonest  species  of  birds.  Yet  not- 
withstanding the  slight  hold  this  science  seems 
to  have  upon  the  popular  mind,  we  find  that 
in  every  Natural  History  museum  in  the  world 
the  section  that  proves  most  generally  attractive, 
and  is  most  interestedly  commented  upon,  is 
that  containing  the  ornithological  specimens. 
The  public  takes  a  lively  interest  in  dead  birds ; 
why  is  it  so  indifferent  to  the  living  ones? 
What  is  a  visit  to  the  best  assortment  in  the 
world  of  mounted  skins  neatly  arranged  in 
show-cases,  faded  and  voiceless,  in  comparison 
with  one  of  nature's  walks,  where 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


"  Every  copse 

Deep  tangled,  tree  irregular,  and  bush 
Bending  with  dewy  moisture,  o'er  the  heads 
Of  the  coy  quiristers  that  lodge  within, 
Are  prodigal  of  harmony  ?  " 

The  anomaly  is  only  explicable  by  the  fact  of 
the  general  impression  that  for  the  world  at  large 
ornithology  is  in  utterly  impracticable  pursuit, 
exclusively  reserved  for  the  few  who  can,  as  it 
were,  make  a  business  of  it;  that  it  is  a  sci- 
ence to  be  mastered  before  one  can  reap  any 
reward  from  it;  that  any  smattering  in  this 
subject  is  profitless. 

Such  a  notion  in  regard  to  any  study  is  a 
permanent  discouragement  and  an  insuperable 
barrier  to  popular  interest  in  its  pursuit.  But 
it  is  a  misconception  indeed  as  regards  orni- 
thology. For  this  science  is  almost  unique  in 
its  simplicity,  in  the  absence  of  necessary  pre- 
liminary technical  study,  and  in  the  possibility 
of  immediate,  definite,  and  pleasurable  results, 
greater  or  less  according  to  the  circumstances 
of  the  individual. 

One  commonly  feels  helpless  to  undertake 
botany,  chemistry,  biology,  etc.,  without  a 
teacher,  and  supposes  that  ornithology  requires 
the  same  formality  of  instruction,  as  well  as 


Prelude 

very  exceptional  opportunities  of  observation. 
But,  unlike  most  other  sciences,  there  are  two 
distinct  lines  of  procedure  in  this,  two  sides  to 
it :  the  indoor  and  the  outdoor — the  purely 
scientific  and  the  popular — school  and  field  or- 
nithology. The  one  is  technical  and  anatom- 
ical, the  dead  data — rather  dry,  as  some  would 
count  dryness;  the  other  has  to  do  with  the 
bird's  life-history — coloration,  habits,  and  song 
— with  all  the  associations  of  the  most  de- 
lightful surroundings  in  nature:  leading  one 
away  from  the  haunts  of  worriment  or  business 
into  the  quiet  places  where,  as  Spenser  says, 

"  The  merry  lark  her  matins  sings  aloft ; 
The  thrush  replies  ;  the  mavis  descant  plays  ; 
The  ousel  shrills  ;  the  redbreast  warbles  soft." 

This  distinction  between  the  two  lines  of 
study  finds  a  literal  illustration  in  the  difference 
between  school  and  field  botany;  still  better, 
however,  in  the  contrast  between  medical  and 
field  botany :  the  latter  associated  with  all  the 
exhilaration  of  search  and  discovery,  of  moun- 
tain air  and  woodland  ramble,  of  the  fascina- 
tion of  Nature's  society  and  solitude.  Medical 
botany  has  all  the  rigid  formalism  of  economic- 
root-and-herb  analysis  of  the  laboratory ;  deal- 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


ing  with  the  dead,  and  not  with  the  living — 
brainy  but  juiceless.  Field  botany  is  vital, 
abounding  in  the  spirit  and  atmosphere  of  out- 
door excursion ;  instinct  with  sentiment,  poetic, 
restful;  an  unfailing  source  of  humanizing  in- 
fluences, even  as  the  deeper  springs  of  life  are 
not  of  the  head  but  of  the  heart. 

The  purely  scientific  side  of  ornithology  (and 
of  botany,  too,  it  must  be  confessed)  is  as  yet 
too  much  of  a  makeshift  to  be  very  captivating, 
even  to  those  whose  predilections  are  of  an  in- 
tellectual rather  than  of  a  sentimental  sort.  Its 
principles  of  classification  are  not  yet  very  pro- 
foundly established,  and  by  the  highest  author- 
ities upon  the  subject  are  confessedly  tentative. 

In  counting  the  number  of  feathers  in  the 
wing,  and  in  examining  the  anatomy  of  a  bird's 
foot,  for  tests  of  relationship,  we  hardly  pene- 
trate deep  enough  into  the  real  nature  of  a  bird 
to  feel  any  intense  glow  of  enthusiasm.  Swal- 
lows, warblers,  and  finches  are  temperamentally 
different ; — a  difference  by  no  means  accounted 
for  by  existing  criteria  of  classification.  And 
botany  is  not  in  advance  of  ornithology  in  this 
respect. 

But  it  is  aside  from  our  present  purpose  to 
quarrel  with  the  scientists.  In  field  ornithol- 
6 


Prelude 

ogy  we  are  happily  beyond  the  reach  of 
false  speculation.  The  different  groups  of  birds 
are  quite  distinct,  whether  we  can  clearly  see 
the  reason  for  it  or  not.  Indeed,  it  adds  a 
spice  of  interest  to  know  there  is  an  unexplored 
remainder.  They  entertain  us  by  their  songs 
and  charming  ways,  quite  oblivious  of  man's 
efforts  to  check  them  off  into  class,  order,  fam- 
ily, genus,  and  species.  They  live  amicably 
when  not  related  (according  to  science),  and 
quarrel  when  in  the  same  family,  just  like  hu- 
man beings.  A  thrush  by  any  other  name 
would  sing  as  well,  and  the  oven-bird  will  be 
just  as  dainty,  comical,  and  happy,  whether  we 
classify  it  with  the  thrushes,  as  formerly,  or 
with  the  warblers,  as  latterly.  Free  as  the  air, 
they  rise  above  all  external  limitation  ;  and  in 
habits  and  plumage  they  are  not  the  less  enter- 
taining for  their  sublime  indifference  to  man's 
scrutiny. 

"  Nay,  the  bird's  rural  music  too 
Is  as  melodious  and  as  free 
As  if  they  sung  to  pleasure  you." 

In  one  important  respect  this  study  is  unique 
and  favored,  as  compared  with  the  other  branches 
of  natural  history.  If  one  would  study  the 
botany  of  Labrador  or  of  Mexico,  he  must 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


needs  go  to  Labrador  or  Mexico  for  his  speci- 
mens. Plants  adhere  to  their  own  zone  and 
climate.  But  by  the  laws  of  migration,  as  ex- 
plained hereafter,  the  avifauna  of  these  and  of 
even  more  remote  regions  accommodatingly 
comes  to  our  own  doors  every  spring  and  fall. 
One  can  find  in  his  front  yard  strange  visitors 
from  tropic  and  arctic  climes,  if  he  is  only  up 
betimes  to  greet  them.  This  is  what  makes 
locality  a  matter  of  so  much  less  significance  in  or- 
nithology than  in  any  kindred  pursuit.  Orni- 
thology might  well  be  called  the  panoramic 
science ;  even  more  so  in  this  latitude  than 
botany  and  entomology.  A  specimen  that  you 
find  at  Washington  in  March  may  be  singing 
you  a  welcome  to  Canada  in  June. 

Field  ornithology  can  no  more  be  taught 
than  the  art  of  writing  poetry  can  be  taught. 
You  must  put  yourself  in  the  way  of  catch- 
ing the  fever,  and  then  let  the  disease  work. 
The  chief  rule  for  studying  a  bird  in  its  wild 
state  is,  first  find  your  bird.  The  only  way 
to  success  in  this  and  the  kindred  sciences  is 
through  patience  and  the  art  of  observation. 
The  study  will  prove  disciplinary  as  well  as 
pleasurable. 

An  enjoyment  incident  to  ornithology  that 


Prelude 

is  worth  mentioning  is  the  fact  that  while  other 
friends  come  and  go,  one  never  loses  the  friends 
he  makes  among  the  birds,  for  his  attachment 
is  to  the  class,  not  to  the  individual.  Speci- 
mens die,  but  the  species  abide.  One  never 
thinks  of  age  in  connection  with  these  creat- 
ures. They  seem  to  have  discovered  the  elixir 
of  life,  and  to  maintain  the  perennial  freshness 
of  youth.  Year  after  year  they  arrive  at  just 
about  the  same  time  in  the  spring,  sing  the 
same  old  songs,  repeat  their  love-passages,  nest 
in  the  same  fashion,  and  perpetuate  all  their 
graceful  ways  and  charming  oddities.  The  old 
man  finds  his  cherry-trees  plundered  by  appar- 
ently the  very  same  robins  that  he  saw  in  his 
boyhood  in  his  father's  orchard,  and  drives 
away  the  same  everlasting  crows  from  his  corn- 
field. The  woodpecker's  vigorous  tapping 
never  becomes  feeble,  nor  the  song  sparrow  less 
blithesome.  The  burden  of  sorrow  is  never 
lifted  from  the  ever-lamenting  pewee,  and  in 
season  and  out  of  season,  with  sometimes  pro- 
voking equanimity,  the  chickadee  is  brimful  of 
merriment.  These  sights  and  sounds  are 
among  the  stabilities  of  life,  the  changeless 
things  that  give  equilibrium  to  nature,  binding 
the  present  to  the  past,  and  spreading  a  pleas- 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


mg  and  restful  aspect  of  permanence  over  the 
mutabilities  of  existence. 

Furthermore,  in  the  prevalent  distribution 
of  their  principal  types,  botany  and  ornithol- 
ogy insure  to  the  student  a  comfortable  home- 
feeling,  wherever  he  may  walk  abroad,  in  the 
sense  of  old  -  time  companionship.  In  the 
same  zone,  even  continent  answereth  to  conti- 
nent in  identical  and  similar  types,  and  one 
can  never  be  utterly  a  stranger  in  a  strange 
land,  when  he  discovers  on  every  hand  the 
counterparts  of  forms  and  faces  familiarized 
and  endeared  by  the  memories  of  early  life. 

But  the  herbarium  and  the  stuffed  speci- 
mens !  Good  for  bait,  to  catch  the  wandering 
interest  of  the  novice.  There  is  something  de- 
pressing, almost  melancholy,  in  these  dead  and 
withered  specimens  within  brick  walls,  when 
one  has  seen  their  living,  joyous  confreres  in 
their  native  haunts,  the  air  laden  with  the  fra- 
grant smells  of  earth  in  the  dewy  freshness  of 
an  early  breeze,  and  has  heard  them  sing 

"  Their  choicest  notes  in  bush  and  spray, 
To  gratulate  the  sweet  return  of  morn." 

What  a  pitiable  travesty  do  we  find  in  the  con- 
trast of  nature's  vital,  melodious  handiwork, 


Prelude 

with  this  dull,  dead  remainder, — the  grace  and 
wild-wood  spirit  gone,  a  relict  of  tissue,  skin,  and 
feathers.  Verily,  I  would  rather  see  *a  living 
crow  than  a  dead  bird-of-paradise.  Every  orni- 
thologist realizes  how  much  more  intelligent 
pleasure  there  is  in  studying  the  habits  and 
song  of  the  very  commonest  bird  that  comes 
about  the  door,  than  in  looking  at  the  finest 
assortment  of  pale-feathered,  beady-eyed,  cot- 
ton-stuffed, and  wire-mounted  mummies  that 
the  world  has  ever  seen. 


The  following  pages  are  an  informal  diary  of 
a  year's  observations  made,  as  business  would 
permit,  in  Central  Park,  of  New  York  City,  in 
1893.  The  area  of  observation  is  not  men- 
tioned as  giving  any  additional  interest  to  the 
narrative,  only  as  the  localizing  of  such  impres- 
sions naturally  imparts  to  them  more  definite- 
ness  and  reality.  It  is  the  foil  of  substantial 
background  to  set  off  the  prominent  objects  in 
jie  picture. 

While  the  Park  is  scarcely  half  a  mile  in 
width,  and  about  two  and  one-half  miles  long, 
the  observations  here  recorded,  with  slight  ex- 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


captions,  were  all  made  in  that  small  section 
known  as  "  The  Ramble,"  covering  only  about 
one-sixteenth  of  a  square  mile.  There  is  a 
significance  in  this  fact  that  should  not  be  over- 
looked, for  it  effectually  disposes  of  the  com- 
mon argument  against  the  practicability  of  this 
pursuit,  on  the  ground  of  its  requiring  one  to 
traverse  large  areas,  at  great  expense  of  time, 
and  perhaps  of  money,  thus  making  it  in- 
compatible with  all  business  pursuits.  When 
almost  in  the  heart  of  a  great  metropolis  such 
facilities  are  afforded  to  the  naturalist,  they  will 
not  be  very  far  to  seek  in  any  locality.  With- 
in this  little  retreat  I  have,  during  the  year, 
found  represented  nineteen  of  the  twenty-one 
families  of  song  birds  in  the  United  States  ; 
some  of  them  quite  abundantly  in  genera  and 
species  ;  with  a  sprinkling  of  species  from  sev- 
eral other  classes  of  land  and  water  birds. 

An  ornithologist  can  scour  the  country,  and 
pick  up  one  bit  of  rare  experience  here,  and 
another  there,  and  the  narration  of  his  choicest 
discoveries  during  a  course  of  years  makes  most 
delightful  reading.  But  it  may  be  questioned 
whether  such  books  are  not  as  much  a  discour- 
agement as  an  incentive  to  those  who,  not  hav- 
ing equal  opportunities  of  research,  are  likely 


Prelude 

to  depreciate  and  thus  fail  to  utilize  their  own 
more  limited  advantages.  If  there  be  any  prac- 
tical value  in  the  following  narrative,  it  lies 
just  in  the  fact  that  it  is  not  exceptional.  Any 
observant  visitor  to  the  Park  can  verify  for 
himself  the  record  here  given  ;  nor  do  I  appre- 
hend that  the  Park  itself,  as  compared  with 
equal  areas  elsewhere,  is  remarkably  favored  in 
opportunities  for  this  pursuit.  Indeed,  during 
a  large  part  of  the  year  its  public  character  and 
exposure  are  plainly  detrimental  to  the  suc- 
cess of  the  naturalist,  and  innumerable  places 
throughout  the  country  are  equally  favorable, 
or  more  so,  for  this  line  of  study.  The  en- 
couragement of  this  record  to  the  beginner  is 
in  the  fact  that  it  is  such  an  ordinary  one. 

The  work,  however,  will  be  found  to  contain 
much  more  than  a  year's  individual  experience  ; 
for  by  interweaving  with  the  narrative  the  dis- 
cussion of  all  the  prominent  aspects  of  bird- 
life  that  pertain  to  field  ornithology,  the  book 
aims  to  give  a  much  more  comprehensive  view 
of  the  subject  than  could  be  afforded  in  a 
merely  personal  and  local  chronicle.  And 
while  it  may  not  contain  any  new  disclosures 
for  the  experienced  naturalist,  yet  in  the  event 
of  such  perusal,  it  is  a  satisfaction  to  remember 

13 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


that  sometimes  it  is  as  pleasant  to  be  reminded 
of  what  we  already  know,  as  to  be  told  some- 
thing new,  —  to  see  a  familiar  object  through 
another's  eyes,  as  an  unfamiliar  one  through 
our  own. 

Between  the  purely  literary  works  upon  orni- 
thology that  flit  about  over  the  subject  like  a 
butterfly,  and  require  a  previous  knowledge  of 
birds  for  their  full  appreciation,  and  the  techni- 
cal books  of  reference  whose  information  is  so 
methodical,  impersonal,  coldly  accurate,  and 
highly  prosaic — between  these  extremes  there 
seems  to  be  a  gap,  which  this  book  will  per- 
haps help  to  fill. 

The  path  opening  before  us  discloses  also  in 
its  long  vista  a  deeper  enjoyment  of  nature  in 
all  her  varied  and  manifold  aspects.  It  is  one 
of  the  charms  of  nature  that  her  revealments 
and  concealments  go  hand  in  hand.  Every- 
where mystery  covers  all,  like  the  fulness  of  the 
sea.  To  the  sensitive  soul  no  scene  can  be 
commonplace.  Even  the  departed  glories  of 
primal  Paradise  seem  faintly  to  linger  and  echo 
in  a  fair  morning's  dewy  and  fragrant  baptism 
of  earth  and  air,  in  the  resplendent  sky-flush  of 
purple  and  crimson,  when 

"  All  the  orient  laugheth  of  the  light, " 


Prelude 

and  in  the  shower  of  song  from  every  woodland 
choir ;  those  ceremonials  that  usher  in  the 
dawning  of  a  summer's  day — a  golden  relic  for 
a  fallen  world. 


•S 


January 


"  When  icicles  hang  by  the  wall, 

And  Dick  the  shepherd  blows  his  nail, 
And  Tom  bears  logs  into  the  hall, 
And  milk  comes  frozen  home  in  pail." 

Shakespeare. 


JANUARY 

|  HE  best  time  to  begin  to  study 
birds  is,  for  several  reasons,  the  sea- 
son when  they  are  to  be  found  not 
most  but  least  frequently.  In  the 
annual  circuit  of  bird-life  we  shall  find  that  win- 
ter is  the  true  chronological  starting-point,  and 
on  other  accounts,  which  will  immediately  ap- 
pear more  forcible  to  the  beginner,  the  new  year 
is  of  all  times  the  most  favorable  for  his  first 
essays  in  this  new  pursuit,  whether  the  study 
be  undertaken  as  a  mere  diversion  or  with  more 
serious  intent. 

At  this  season  there  is  not  such  a  variety  of 
species  as  to  confuse  one  who  has  not  learned 
what  to  look  for,  nor  how  properly  to  look  for 
it.  An  adept  will  often  gather  at  a  glance 
enough  of  the  distinctive  marks  of  an  unfamiliar 
species  to  enable  him  to  identify  it  fully ;  while 
the  novice  would  only  be  bewildered,  and  not 
knowing  how  to  look  at  the  specimen  discrimi- 
natingly, would  fail  of  seeing  anything  dis- 

19 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


tinctly.  A  few  weeks  of  effort  in  this  and  in 
all  kindred  pursuits  bring  very  forcibly  to  the 
mind  of  the  beginner  the  truth  of  the  old  coup- 
let— 

"  I  hearing  get,  who  had  but  ears, 
And  sight,  who  had  but  eyes  before." 

A  good  opera-glass  is  an  indispensable  com- 
panion in  one's  researches,  and  it  is  not  amiss 
to  suggest  that  he  cannot  too  quickly  conquer 
his  diffidence  in  using  the  glass  freely,  even 
though  it  attract  the  curious  attention  of  people 
about  him.  I  have  lost  many  a  good  view  of 
a  bird  I  wanted  to  see,  through  dislike  of  the 
gaping  looks  of  an  idle  passer-by.  Without 
approaching  a  bird  as  closely  as  would  be  neces- 
sary without  a  glass,  you  avoid  frightening  it 
away,  and  can  have  a  much  longer  view  ;  for  a 
bird  is  always  keenly  alert  with  eye  and  ear  to 
discover  any  one's  approach,  but  they  are 
sharp  enough  to  know  there  is  less  danger  from 
a  mere  passer-by,  however  boisterous,  than 
from  one  who  suspiciously  loiters  about  in  the 
vicinity.  It  is  as  amusing  as  it  is  exasperating 
to  see  how  quickly  they  sometimes  detect  your 
purpose. 

Having  discovered  a  specimen,  it  requires  a 


January 

little  practice  to  bring  the  glass  to  bear  instantly 
on  the  precise  point ;  and  if  not  done  at  once, 
the  bird  is  likely  to  be  so  disobliging  as  to 
change  its  position,  and  you  will  run  the  risk 
of  losing  it  altogether.  It  is  advisable  to  gain 
facility  in  this  matter  by  fixing  the  eye  on  some 
remote  but  distinct  object,  like  the  end  of  a 
branch,  and  learning  to  cover  it  instantly  with 
a  glass.  The  opportunities  of  seeing  specimens 
are  too  valuable  to  be  wasted  in  such  practice. 

The  absence  of  foliage  in  winter  makes  a 
vast  difference  in  the  ease  of  discovering  birds, 
and  of  following  their  motions  as  they  go  from 
tree  to  tree.  A  delicate  aspen-leaf  can  hide  a 
warbler,  and  any  of  the  larger  song-birds  can 
be  lost  behind  a  leaf  of  maple  or  of  oak,  while 
the  plumage  often  blends  confusingly  with  the 
foliage.  In  the  case  of  the  sparrows,  which  are 
peculiarly  ground-birds,  it  has  been  ingeni- 
ously suggested  that  their  prevailing  neutral 
colors  prove  them  to  be  the  "survival  of  the 
fittest"  to  escape  the  sharp  eyes  of  their  vari- 
ous enemies,  all  the  brighter-colored  species  (if 
there  ever  were  any)  having  been  gradually 
exterminated. 

In  the  construction  of  their  nests,  too,  it  is 
often  evident  that  birds  feel  the  necessity  of 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


eluding  observation,  not  only  by  placing  them 
in  concealment,  but  by  making  the  exterior  of 
the  nest  so  harmonious  in  color  and  texture 
with  its  surroundings,  that  it  is  sometimes 
scarcely  discernible  even  when  close  before 
your  eyes.  It  often  seems  as  if  the  chronic 
anxiety  and  ceaseless  vigilance  of  these  creat- 
ures to  escape  destruction  would  make  life 
hardly  worth  living. 
Even  in  winter, 

"  When  there  is  a  hush  of  music  on  the  air," 

you  commonly  hear  a  chirp  or  zip  before  you 
see  the  bird,  and  not  infrequently  these  call- 
notes  are  distinctive  enough  to  indicate  the 
species.  This  is  perhaps  especially  true  of  the 
winter  birds,  when  the  various  families  are  rep- 
resented by  so  few  species,  and  the  more  re- 
mote the  relationship  the  more  unlike  the  notes 
are  likely  to  be.  For  example,  the  white- 
throated  sparrow  has  a  peculiar  and  unmistak- 
able tone,  soft,  but  shrill,  as  unlike  that  of  the 
cardinal  grosbeak  or  of  the  nuthatch  as  possible, 
although  not  easily  distinguished  from  the  note 
of  some  of  the  species  appearing  later  in  the 
season.  Indeed,  without  these  faint  sugges- 


January 

tions  of  their  presence  there  could  hardly  be 
any  such  thing  as  winter  ornithology,  as  the 
naturalist  relies  so  much  more  on  his  ear  than 
on  his  eye  to  discover  them. 

The  "white-throat"  is  one  of  the  prettiest 
species  of  sparrows  (whose  merit,  as  a  class,  is 
not  that  of  good  looks),  apparently  quite  nu- 
merous in  this  region  in  winter,  and  can  be  seen 
any  day  in  the  Park.  The  head  is  very  dis- 
tinctly striped  with  black,  white,  and  a  bit  of 
yellow,  while  the  throat  is  conspicuously  white. 
The  rest  of  the  body  is  rather  neutral  in  color. 
They  are  commonly  found  on  the  ground  or 
in  bushes,  rarely  flying  to  any  great  height  in 
trees,  and  at  this  season  always  seem  busily 
engaged  in  picking  up  a  very  precarious  living. 
We  are  told  they  neither  reap  nor  gather  into 
barns.  In  fact,  like  all  others  of  the  feathered 
race,  they  live  very  much  from  hand  to  mouth. 
This  trait,  so  reprehensible  in  the  human  fam- 
ily, gives  the  birds  many  a  solid  day's  work  in 
the  snows  of  winter,  trying  to  satisfy  the  pangs 
of  hunger,  which  are  not  always  satisfied  even 
then.  After  a  fresh  fall  of  snow  covering  the 
usual  sources  of  supply,  I  have  found  the 
"white-throats"  busily  exploring  the  bushes 
after  sundown  on  a  cold  January  night.  But 

23 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


whether  they  feast  or  fast,  they  remain  careless 
and  happy,  which  is  fortunate  and  perhaps  com- 
mendable. 

Yet  nature  is  not  so  unskilful  nor  unkind, 
after  all,  as  at  first  appears ;  for  both  birds  and 
beasts  are  a  storehouse  unto  themselves,  in  the 
mass  of  adipose  matter  snugly  stored  up  under 
their  skins,  as  a  supply  of  fuel  with  which  to 
maintain  their  winter  fires.  Without  this  wise 
provision  of  nature  countless  numbers  must  in- 
evitably perish  during  the  stress  of  winter,  and 
very  many  do  as  it  is.  The  leanness  with 
which  many  wild  animals  appear  in  the  spring 
shows  how  thoroughly  they  have  exhausted  their 
reserve  force. 

The  best  time  of  day  to  look  for  birds  the 
year  round,  with  some  few  exceptions,  is  in  the 
forenoon,  and  in  a  cold  winter's  day  not  till 
ten  or  eleven  o'clock,  for  at  this  season  they 
rise  late  and  retire  very  early.  They  pick  up 
an  abundant  breakfast  (if  possible),  and  with 
a  full  stomach  their  activity  ceases.  They  will 
then  remain  perched  in  some  protected  spot, 
until  gastronomic  cravings  again  drive  them 
forth.  A  spot  protected  from  the  wind  and 
exposed  to  the  sun  is  a  common  rendezvous  in 
winter,  and  I  have  noticed  that  a  high  wind 
24 


January 

disturbs  their  equanimity  and  drives  them  to 
shelter  fully  as  much  as  intense  cold.  With  no 
other  occupation  than  their  precarious  purvey- 
ance, and  amid  the  most  cheerless  surround- 
ings, if  they  were  obliged  to  think  all  winter, 
it  would  indeed  be  a  most  tedious  and  disheart- 
ening experience  for  them.  Probably  no  mere 
animal  has  any  of  a  human  being's  sense  of  the 
lapse  of  time,  for  which  they  cannot  be  too 
profoundly  grateful. 

One  of  the  daintiest  species  to  be  found  in 
the  woods  at  this  season,  a  spark  of  vital  warmth 
in  the  surrounding  cold,  is  the  golden-crowned 
kinglet,  also  called  golden-crowned  wren,  or 
"  gold -crest."  This  little  creature  is  less  than 
five  inches  long  (a  bird's  length  being  meas- 
ured from  the  tip  of  the  bill  to  the  end  of  the 
tail),  and  its  head  is  beautifully  marked  with 
two  black  stripes  enclosing  a  yellow  stripe 
which  in  the  mature  male  has  a  scarlet  centre. 
The  rest  of  the  body  is  in  the  main  greenish 
olive  above,  and  an  impure  white  beneath.  It 
is  impossible  to  get  a  good  view  of  all  these 
points  at  once,  as  he  is  in  almost  perpetual 
motion,  nimbly  hopping  from  spot  to  spot  in 
the  bushes  and  trees,  and  fluttering  his  wings. 
His  food  at  this  season  is  chiefly  the  larvae  of 

25 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


insects  that  lie  concealed  in  the  bark.  Either 
from  that  sense  of  security  that  comes  only  from 
irreproachable  morals  or  manners,  or  because 
he  is  really  too  busy  to  take  notice  of  other 
people,  he  is  very  easy  to  approach.  When 
you  find  one,  you  may  be  sure  there  are  others 
not  far  away,  as  they  are  gregarious  at  this  sea- 
son of  the  year.  They  make  a  merry  company 
as  they  explore  the  trees  together,  and  their 
soft  but  musical  zee,  zee,  zee,  and  sprightly  man- 
ners seem  unmistakable  evidence  that  they  are 
in  the  best  of  spirits.  They  are  very  plentiful 
hereabouts,  for  scarcely  a  day  passes  that  I  do 
not  see  them,  and  they  are  so  incessantly  lively 
that  it  seems  hardly  possible  that  they  can  sleep 
longer  than  during  the  winks.  They  are  only 
winter-birds  in  this  region,  summering  and 
breeding  in  the  White  Mountains,  northern 
Maine  and  beyond,  so  that  they  are  with  us 
only  from  October  to  April,  or  a  little  later. 

One  feature  of  the  winter-birds,  viz.,  their 
song,  can  of  course  only  be  known  by  the  re- 
ports of  those  who  hear  them  in  their  summer 
homes.  That  of  the  kinglet  is  said  to  be  "a 
series  of  low,  shrill  chirps,  terminating  in  a 
lisping  warble."  Its  congener,  the  ruby- 
crowned  kinglet,  is  a  much  finer  vocalist. 
26 


January 

The  various  species  are  quite  different,  as  re- 
gards their  habits  of  association.  Some,  like 
the  kinglets,  are  gregarious  in  winter,  and 
much  less  so  in  summer;  others,  like  the  robin, 
are  so  the  year  round ;  some,  like  the  brown 
creeper,  associate  with  other  species,  and  very 
little  with  their  own  ;  others  are  found  in  pairs, 
and  some  live  a  very  isolated  life. 

The  longer  one  studies  the  birds,  especially 
as  regards  their  habits,  the  more  pronounced 
become  their  individualities  in  his  mind.  Their 
traits  of  character  are  revealed  by  their  man- 
ners,  and  not  by  their  plumage,  and  this  is 
what  makes  a  collection  of  stuffed  specimens  so 
utterly  meaningless.  Their  various  tints  count 
for  no  more  than  so  much  paint,  and  are  as  ex- 
pressionless as  a  rainbow.  Many  a  handsome 
specimen  excites  only  the  admiration  of  color, 
while  a  plain  little  song  sparrow  can  endear  it- 
self to  every  beholder. 

I  am  aware  that  my  estimate  of  some  of  the 
birds  differs  from  that  of  other  ornithologists. 
Very  likely  they  are  right  and  I  am  wrong. 
Still,  as  second-hand  opinions,  even  of  birds, 
are  poor  property,  it  is  better  and  more  honest 
to  maintain  one's  own,  when  held  for  a  cause, 
reserving  the  right  to  change  for  good  reason, 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


as  one  would  do  in  regard  to  any  of  his  other 
friends. 

An  inoffensive  but  wearisome  little  fellow  is 
a  brown-clad  denizen  of  all  our  woods  in  win- 
ter, and  commonly  found  not  far  away  from 
the  kinglets  and  chickadees,  viz.,  the  brown 
creeper,  almost  invariably  seen  on  the  trunks 
of  trees  whose  bark  is  somewhat  rough,  as  the 
smooth  surface  of  other  trees  affords  no  hiding- 
place  for  the  larvae  on  which  he  subsists.  He 
is  a  little  over  five  inches  long,  white  beneath, 
and  finely  marked  with  various  shades  of  brown 
and  white  above.  On  first  acquaintance  it 
makes  no  particular  impression  other  than  that 
of  being  a  neatly  clad  and  busy  little  body ; 
but  in  course  of  time  it  becomes  really  irritat- 
ing to  the  feelings,  from  its  exasperatingly  con- 
scientious but  cold-blooded  diligence,  which 
makes  you  feel  as  if  you  ought  to  admire  it  on 
moral  grounds ;  but  you  cannot.  In  fact,  too 
much  conscience  gets  to  be  monotonous.  The 
brown  creeper  is  a  virtuous  drudge,  without 
animation  or  variation.  There  is  an  air  about 
him,  as  he  silently  climbs  tree  after  tree,  that 
makes  his  work  seem  as  soulless  as  it  is  incessant. 
When  you  have  seen  it  a  minute  you  have  seen 
it  a  year,  and  seeing  one  is  seeing  a  thousand. 
28 


January 

He  starts  near  the  bottom  of  a  tree,  crawls 
up  just  about  so  fast  and  so  far,  and  then  flies 
to  the  bottom  of  another,  only  to  repeat  the 
programme.  By  close  application  to  business 
(and  nothing  but  sickness  can  stop  him)  I  find 
he  can  do  a  tree  in  just  about  fifty  seconds,  or 
seventy-two  trees  in  an  hour,  and  in  the  twenty- 
four  hours  (as  far  as  I  know  he  works  nights 
and  Sundays)  seventeen  hundred  and  twenty- 
eight  trees.  If  he  would  only  sing  or  chirp  at 
his  work,  or  flutter  his  wings,  or  turn  his  head 
occasionally,  it  would  change  the  impression 
marvellously.  Only  now  and  then  you  hear  a 
faint  sip,  that  cheers  neither  himself  nor  the 
spectator,  and  has  a  drearily  mechanical  and 
conscientious  sound.  Every  other  bird  I  have 
seen  will  at  times  show  joy  or  sorrow  or  fear  by 
its  manner  or  song,  but  the  creeper  has  only 
one  aim  and  ambition,  and  no  time  for  senti- 
ment. If  in  the  transmigration  of  souls  Sisy- 
phus was  ever  incarnated  in  bird-form,  we  cer- 
tainly have  him  here,  neatly  encased  in  feathers, 
for  it  is  nothing  but  climb,  climb,  climb,  and 
never  getting  there. 

One  of  the  thousand  evidences  of  nature's 
grand  consistency  is  shown  by  the  conformity 
of  color  in  the  plumage  of  birds  with  the  pre- 
29 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


vailing  tone  of  the  landscape.  The  arctic  birds 
are  largely  white,  those  of  the  tropics  brilliant 
hued,  and  in  our  own  clime  the  richly  tinted 
species  appear  amid  the  bloom  and  verdure  of 
spring  and  summer  ;  while  the  snow  and  the 
sombre  tints  of  the  winter  landscape  are  matched 
by  the  whiteness  of  the  sea-gulls,  the  mingled 
black  and  white  of  snow-bird,  chickadee,  and 
downy  woodpecker,  the  brown  and  white  of  the 
snow-bunting,  and  the  browns  of  the  flicker, 
goldfinch,  and  creeper.  Yet  the  jewel  of  con- 
sistency is  not  tarnished  but  enhanced  by 
nature's  occasional  departure  from  the  severity 
of  her  own  laws,  showing  them  to  be  curvili- 
near rather  than  angular. 

A  delightful  surprise  it  is,  therefore,  to  find 
in  the  Park,  at  this  season,  a  flock  of  cardinal 
grosbeaks,  also  called  red-bird  and  Virginia 
nightingale,  of  graceful  form,  rich  in  color, 
and  of  rather  lordly  air  with  their  prominent 
crests,  apparently  living  a  comfortable  life  in  a 
climate  that  would  seem  too  severe  for  their 
more  tropical  natures.  They  are  a  little  small- 
er than  the  robin,  the  male  a  bright  vermil- 
ion, black  about  the  bill,  while  the  bill  itself, 
which  is  large  and  prominent,  is  bright  coral 
red.  A  stuffed  specimen  gives  no  idea  of  its 

30 


CARDINAL    GROSBEAK 


January 

beauty,  as  the  color  so  quickly  fades  after 
death. 

When  not  feeding  from  the  berries  that  still 
cling  to  the  trees,  they  condescend  to  patronize 
the  "  board  "  spread  by  the  Park  officials  for  all 
the  feathered  tribe,  and  for  the  instant  mingle 
with  the  more  plebeian  sparrows  and  pigeons. 
Their  call-note  is  loud,  musical,  and  character- 
istic, leading  one  to  expect  much  when  they 
come  into  full  song.  Compared  with  the  ever- 
busy  kinglets  they  live  a  life  of  elegant  ease ; 
and  indolence  best  comports  with  aristocratic 
airs.  As  their  summer  residence  is  mostly  in 
the  Southern  States,  their  occurrence  in  winter 
so  far  north  as  New  York  is  quite  exceptional. 

But  one  must  not  always  keep  his  eyes  on 
the  ground,  or  exploring  the  shrubbery  and 
trees,  if  he  would  see  all  that  a  winter's  day  af- 
fords. High  in  the  air,  their  pure  white  pinions 
clearly  outlined  against  the  deep  blue,  you  can 
often  see  the  gulls,  either  singly  or  in  small  flocks, 
that  are  found  along  the  coast  and  inland  at 
this  season.  The  commonest  species  seen  here- 
abouts in  winter  is  the  herring-gull,  which,  as 
the  warm  weather  approaches,  retires  to  its 
breeding-grounds  along  the  seashore  from 
Maine  to  Labrador.  The  pearly  mantle  that 

31 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


covers  the  back  can  only  be  seen  as  it  now  and 
then  skims  the  surface  of  the  water,  or  rests 
awhile  on  the  waves  from  which  it  gathers  its 
food.  But  the  air  seems  their  native  element 
more  than  the  water,  and  in  the  grand  sweep 
of  their  wings  and  in  their  slow  and  majestic 
progress,  they  give  to  the  beholder  the  sense  of 
rest  rather  than  of  weariness. 

It  is  a  simple  but  necessary  rule  that  if  you 
would  see  the  birds  you  must  go  where  they  are. 
In  winter  they  chiefly  frequent  the  evergreens 
and  such  other  trees  as  have  coarse  bark  in 
which  the  larvae  of  insects  are  hid.  They  are 
also  to  be  looked  for  among  the  shrubbery  and 
weeds  to  which  last  year's  berries  and  seeds  are 
still  clinging  ;  while  in  the  coldest  weather  they 
gather  what  cheer  they  can  in  some  sheltered, 
sunny  nook,  where  they  find  a  brief  respite  from 
icy  winds  and  chilling  shadows.  To  them  at 
this  season  certainly  life  is  little  more  than 
meat. 

Knowing  their  habits  helps  very  much  to 
identify  them.  If  you  find  a  specimen  curious- 
ly running  around  and  up  and  down  the  tree- 
trunk,  as  if  all  directions  were  horizontal,  it  is 
inevitably  the  nuthatch — probably  the  white- 
breasted — though  you  may  not  have  a  glimpse 


January 

of  its  bluish  back  and  black  collar.  (Later  in 
the  year  you  will  find  two  species  of  warblers 
reminding  you  of  the  nuthatch  in  their  move- 
ments.) 

If  it  hugs  the  trunk  and  is  alway  moving  up- 
ward, either  in  straight  lines  or  spirally,  it  is  as 
certainly  the  brown  creeper.  Looking  at  this 
bird  attentively  you  will  see  that  its  tail  feathers 
are  very  stiff  and  sharp-pointed,  and  used  as  a 
means  of  propping  itself  as  it  ascends,  which 
accounts  for  its  always  creeping  upward. 
(The  woodpeckers  are  larger,  and  have  not  the 
incessant  motion  of  the  creeper.) 

If,  again,  your  specimen  flies  nimbly  from  twig 
to  twig,  and  assumes  all  sorts  of  attitudes  that 
would  be  grotesque  if  they  were  not  consum- 
mately graceful,  and  above  all,  if  a  merry  laugh 
rings  out  on  the  air  as  it  busily  explores  the 
branches,  then  it  is  certainly  the  chickadee- 
dee-dee.  The  different  movements  of  these 
species  are  explained  by  the  fact  that  while  the 
nuthatch  supports  itself  entirely  by  its  claws 
inserted  in  the  bark,  and  the  brown  creeper  by 
its  claws  and  tail,  the  chickadee  grasps  the  slen- 
der twigs,  and  therefore  moves  among  the 
higher  and  smaller  branches,  and  never  on  the 
trunk. 

33 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


The  nuthatch,  about  six  inches  long,  and 
already  sufficiently  described  for  identification 
as  to  color  and  habits,  commonly  travels  about 
in  pairs,  making  its  presence  known  by  a  loud 
and  peculiar  tone  not  unlike  the  syllable  ank, 
and  generally  uttered  twice ;  besides  this  it 
has  a  much  softer  note,  and  I  have  once  heard 
a  very  melodious  twitter  as  it  quietly  rested 
on  a  branch ;  but  it  can  hardly  be  regarded 
as  a  song-bird,  although  classed  among  them. 
Neither  can  it  be  called  graceful  nor  handsome, 
but  its  habits  are  especially  interesting,  and  it 
gains  the  more  regard  from  being  associated  in 
our  mind  with  cold  weather,  for  it  disappears 
at  the  approach  of  spring,  breeding  much  far- 
ther north. 

Wilson  says  :  ' '  The  name  Nuthatch  has  been 
bestowed  on  this  family  from  their  supposed 
practice  of  breaking  nuts  by  repeated  hatchings 
or  hammerings  with  their  bills  ;  ' '  but  the  same 
writer  shows  good  reason  for  doubting  the  va- 
lidity of  the  name. 

Of  the  woodpeckers,  a  family  that  is  ungain- 
ly in  form,  but  attractive  in  habits,  I  have  seen 
only  two  species  during  the  month  ;  first,  the 
downy  woodpecker,  about  six  inches  long,  and 
the  smallest  of  the  family,  black  and  white  curi- 

34 


January 

ously  mingled,  while  the  male  has  the  distin- 
guishing badge  of  a  bright  crimson  patch  on 
the  hind-head.  This  species  is  very  common 
throughout  eastern  North  America  in  woods 
and  orchards,  and  seems  to  be  more  desirous  of 
proximity  to  man  than  the  other  species  of  the 
same  family. 

Matrimonial  arrangements  are  commonly 
made  annually  among  the  birds,  but  the  ' '  down- 
ies ' '  are  usually  mated  for  life,  and  hence  are 
often  seen  in  pairs  instead  of  singly.  Neither 
are  they  so  migratory  as  many  others,  and  often 
remain  in  one  locality  throughout  the  year. 

The  woodpeckers  are  not  singers,  but  every 
species  has  its  note,  more  or  less  shrill,  and 
some  of  them  have  quite  a  variety  of  such  notes. 
These  sounds  probably  serve  as  means  of  com- 
munication among  themselves,  and  perhaps  re- 
lieve their  overcharged  feelings,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  pileated  woodpecker,  or  log-cock,  which, 
Minot  says,  "  often  produces  a  loud  cackling, 
not  wholly  unlike  that  of  a  hen.  Hence  a 
countryman,  asked  by  a  sportsman  if  there  were 
any  of  them  in  a  certain  place,  answered  that 
he  '  often  heard  them  hollering  in  the  woods. '  ' ' 

The  other  woodpecker  in  the  Park  is  the 
' '  flicker, ' '  alias  ' '  golden-winged  woodpecker, ' ' 

35 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


alias  "yellow-hammer."  It  has  eleven  other 
names,  based  on  its  habits  or  appearance.  This 
is  quite  a  large  bird,  over  twelve  inches  long, 
of  a  curiously  mottled  brownish  color  above, 
whitish  and  black  spotted  beneath,  with  a  black 
crescent  on  its  breast  and  a  scarlet  crescent  on  the 
back  of  its  head.  In  flight  it  is  easily  identified 
by  the  large  white  area  on  the  lower  part  of  the 
back  or  rump.  The  finest  view  of  it  is  when 
it  spreads  its  broad  wings  against  the  sunlight, 
for  they  are  of  a  deep  rich  yellow  inside,  from 
which  it  gets  the  name  of  "  golden-winged." 
Its  variety  of  names  shows  its  prevalence  over 
an  extensive  area,  being  found  from  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico  to  Hudson's  Bay.  They  are  not  in  the 
fullest  sense  of  the  term  woodpeckers,  inasmuch 
as  their  food  is  largely  gathered  from  the  ground, 
consisting  of  ants  and  other  insects,  berries  and 
grain,  although  at  times  showing  the  instinct 
of  the  true  woodpecker  in  extracting  insects, 
larvae  and  eggs  from  the  bark.  Like  the  other 
species,  they  excavate  their  nests  in  the  trees, 
and  some  of  the  accounts  of  their  nest-building 
are  very  interesting.  It  has  a  very  harsh,  loud 
note,  uttered  singly,  and  another,  softer  and 
sweeter,  often  repeated  rapidly  a  dozen  times 
or  more,  which  is  hardly  distinguishable  from 

36 


January 

r 

the  call-note  of  the  robin.  It  is  found  in  this 
region  the  year  round,  but  its  presence  in  the 
Park  is  chiefly  during  the  cold  weather. 

Birds  easily  adapt  themselves  to  circum- 
stances ;  and,  although  I  was  brought  up  to 
believe  that  I  should  never,  under  any  con- 
ditions, find  doves  alighting  on  trees,  it  is  a 
common  sight  in  the  Park :  probably  due  to 
the  fact  that  there  are  scarcely  any  buildings  in 
the  vicinity;  yet  even  such  as  there  are  they 
studiously  avoid,  always  flocking  to  the  maples 
and  elms,  as  they  were  doubtless  wont  to  do  in 
their  predomesticated  state. 

There  is  no  virility  about  a  dove :  just  a  mass 
of  meat,  feathers,  and  flabby  good-nature  ;  too 
inoffensive  to  be  interesting  ;  for  an  object  that 
it  is  impossible  to  hate,  it  is  impossible  to  love. 

As  white  is  to  black,  so  are  doves  to  crows — a 
rather  favorite  fowl  of  mine,  though  as  common 
as  sin,  of  which  it  is  a  sort  of  winged  symbol. 
Coarse-fibred,  harsh-voiced,  and  villainous  as  it 
is,  it  is  a  broad  and  solid  dash  of  color  that 
could  be  ill  spared  in  the  landscape.  How 
tersely  and  vividly  descriptive  those  few  words 
of  Shakespeare : 

"  Light  thickens,  and  the  crow 
Makes  wing  to  the  rooky  wood  ;  " 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


— a  simple  and  suggestive  scene  in  the  gloam- 
ing, familiar  to  every  one  who  has  lived  in  the 
country.  I  know  that  crows  are  held  in  gen- 
eral derision,  that  their  hearts  are  supposed  to 
be  of  the  same  hue  as  their  plumage,  and  only 
to  be  frowned  upon  from  both  a  moral  and 
aesthetic  point  of  view.  But  I  beg  leave  to  in- 
sert a  line  of  protest  in  their  favor,  and  candidly 
confess  that  it  is  to  me  a  peculiarly  pleasurable 
sight  to  see  them  coursing  in  their  strong  and 
dignified  flight  over  the  landscape  ;  and  when 
an  interval  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile  has  filtered 
out  the  most  rasping  quality  of  the  voice,  the 
barbaric  clamor  of  half  a  dozen  gossipy  crows 
affords  an  unwonted  delight.  There  is  a  wild- 
ness  in  the  sound  that  stirs  the  blood ;  it  has  a 
pungent,  salty  flavor  that  the  ear  craves.  Too 
much  refinement  takes  away  the  vigor  and  pith 
of  a  distant  object,  be  it  audible  or  visible,  and 
there  is  more  of  the  sturdy  country  life  in  the 
crow  than  in  a  dozen  songsters.  The  slow  and 
measured  step  with  which  they  walk  is  called 
by  Audubon  ' '  elevated  and  graceful ; ' '  and  as 
he  is  so  illustrious  and  dead,  I  will  not  presume 
to  question  the  truth  of  the  statement.  They 
are  very  gregarious  throughout  the  year,  and 
omnivorous  rather  than  fastidious  in  their  diet, 


January 

not  only  pillaging  the  grain-fields  and  fruit- 
trees,  but  having  a  relish  for  insects,  all  kinds 
of  flesh,  shell-fish,  and  the  like,  while  their  most 
vicious  trait  is  the  destruction  of  the  eggs  and 
young  of  other  birds.  To  estimate  the  crow 
rightly,  one  must  let  admiration  and  contempt 
lie  side  by  side  in  his  mind,  without  allowing 
either  to  neutralize  the  other. 

The  Park  is  not  a  favorable  place  for  birds 
of  prey,  but  it  has  harbored  a  hawk  for  several 
weeks  this  winter.  The  larger  and  longer-lived 
birds  are  correspondingly  slow  in  coming  to 
maturity,  and  until  they  reach  that  stage  identi- 
fication is  difficult  and  often  impossible  from 
the  plumage.  From  its  rather  nondescript 
coloring,  this  specimen  seemed  to  be  immature. 
Gliding  silently  through  the  trees,  like  a  spirit 
of  evil,  it  eluded  a  near  approach,  and  at  last 
disappeared  altogether.  There  is  something 
spectral  and  malevolent  in  the  demeanor  and 
solitary  life  of  the  birds  of  prey  that  is  of 
peculiar  interest.  Standing  in  no  possible  rela- 
tion of  human  sympathy,  they  prove  attractive 
in  part  by  the  very  qualities  that  are  repellent, 
presenting  an  aspect  of  bird-life  as  strange  as  it 
is  fascinating. 

One  day,  in  passing  some  shrubbery,  a  faint 

39 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


and  rather  dolorous  chirp  called  my  attention 
to  a  song  sparrow  quietly  perching;  but  in  that 
cold  winter's  day  there  was  no  song  in  its 
heart,  and  it  was  patiently  biding  its  time. 
Farther  on  I  stumbled  upon  a  catbird,  which  is 
quite  out  of  place  here  at  this  season.  It  was 
too  much  occupied  in  picking  over  the  dead 
leaves  in  search  of  food  to  take  much  notice  of 
my  intrusion ;  but  having  sufficiently  canvassed 
the  ground,  it  flew  away,  and  I  did  not  find  an- 
other till  April.  For  those  who  may  be  un- 
familiar with  this  degenerate  scion  of  the  no- 
blest family  of  birds  (the  thrushes)  it  may  be 
remarked  that  it  is  a  little  shorter  than  the 
robin,  of  a  slate  color,  crown  and  tail  black, 
while  the  under  tail-coverts  (covering  the  base 
of  the  tail)  are  chestnut-red. 

Another  friend  in  the  Park  is  a  little  speci- 
men, common  in  winter  from  New  England  to 
Florida,  and  so  fearless  as  often  to  be  found 
about  the  houses  and  barns  in  the  country — 
the  snow-bird,  a  trim  and  sprightly  creature 
about  six  inches  long,  dark  slate  above  and  on 
the  breast,  which  passes  very  abruptly  into 
white  beneath,  as  if  it  were  reflecting  the  leaden 
skies  above  and  the  snow  below.  It  is  com- 
monly seen  on  the  ground,  in  shrubbery,  or  the 


January 

lower  branches  of  trees,  and,  with  a  large  meas- 
ure of  confidence  in  human  nature,  it  yet  dis- 
creetly flies  on  a  little  in  advance  as  you  ap- 
proach. It  has  a  vivacious,  tinkling  note, 
quite  distinct  from  any  other  winter  bird.  Al- 
though the  snow-birds  are  here  all  winter,  they 
become  more  numerous  at  the  approach  of 
spring.  They  have  a  conspicuously  sociable 
disposition,  and  mingle  freely  with  sparrows, 
chickadees,  and  the  early  migrants.  Their 
sleek  and  natty  appearance  and  genial  temper 
commend  them  at  once  to  the  observer. 

The  foregoing  list  of  birds  found  in  the  Park, 
during  what  is  perhaps  the  most  unpropitious 
month  of  the  year — the  white-throated  sparrow, 
kinglet,  brown  creeper,  nuthatch,  chickadee, 
song  sparrow,  downy  woodpecker,  golden  - 
winged  woodpecker,  hawk,  catbird,  cardinal 
grosbeak,  gull,  crow  and  snow-bird, — comprises 
those  which  one  is  most  likely  to  meet  in  all 
our  woods,  during  the  winter  ;  not  a  remarka- 
bly long  list,  but  more  extended  than  an  un- 
observant person  would  suppose,  and  afford- 
ing objects  of  search  and  thought  that  can 
render  a  walk,  even  through  the  bleak  woods 
in  winter -time,  a  source  of  instruction  and 
pleasure. 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


Of  course  no  self-respecting  ornithologist  will 
condescend  to  enlarge  his  list  by  counting  in 
the  pigeon  and  the  English  sparrow  ;  the  former 
not  being  wild  game,  and  the  latter  too  pes- 
tiferous for  mention. 


42 


February 


"  You  have  such  a  February  face, 
So  full  of  frost,  of  storm,  and  cloudiness  !  " 

Shakespeare. 


FEBRUARY 

|T  is  perhaps  impossible  for  an  intel- 
ligent person  to  prosecute  any  line 
of  research,  without  finding  himself 
instinctively  grouping  his  newly  ac- 
quired facts  according  to  some  system,  it  may 
be  merely  fanciful  and  erroneous,  or  it  may 
be  more  or  less  scientific  and  accurate.  The 
human  mind  has  an  innate  propensity  to  sys- 
tematic arrangement,  which  doubtless  has  its 
ground  in  this,  that  any  fact,  pure  and  simple, 
is  of  very  little  interest,  except  as  considered 
in  its  relation  to  other  facts.  It  is  as  true  of 
every  fact  as  of  a  human  being,  that  none  liveth 
unto  itself.  And  even  without  any  distinct  sense 
of  this  truth  which  prevails  throughout  the  uni- 
verse, the  mind,  by  its  very  constitution  fitted 
to  the  state  of  the  case,  governs  itself  according 
to  this  principle.  Without  such  relationship, 
science,  as  we  understand  it,  would  be  impossi- 
ble, or  at  best  only  a  heterogeneous  accumula- 
tion of  isolated  facts,  as  devoid  of  all  utility 

45 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


after  possession  as  they  would  be  uninteresting 
and  laborious  in  the  acquisition. 

Even  when  the  correct  fundamental  relation 
subsisting  between  the  facts  of  a  certain  class 
is  felt  to  be  as  yet  undiscovered,  as  in  botany 
and  ornithology,  one  realizes  the  need  of  some 
provisional  system,  however  erroneous  it  may 
be,  until  the  true  one  shall  have  been  found. 
As  an  aid  to  memory  a  system  is  of  inestimable 
value,  and  in  this  respect  a  thoroughly  false 
method  may  not  be  so  very  inferior  to  the  cor- 
rect one. 

Birds  may  be  grouped  in  three  ways.  That 
which  claims  to  be  the  most  thoroughly  scien- 
tific classification  is  based  upon  anatomical 
structure,  wherein  the  size  and  form  of  the  bill, 
the  number  of  feathers  in  the  wing,  the  length 
and  peculiarities  of  the  leg  (or  tarsus),  the  num- 
ber and  position  of  the  toes,  etc.,  are  among 
the  important  criteria  for  determining  the  status 
of  the  individual.  We  can  all  certainly  agree 
in  saying,  with  Lincoln,  that  "  for  those  that 
like  that  kind  of  a  thing,  that  would  be  just 
the  kind  of  a  thing  they  would  like;  "  but  if 
pressed  for  further  unanimity,  some  of  us  would 
have  to  part  company. 

But  for  the  purposes  of  field  ornithology  the 
46 


February 

distinctions  here  referred  to  are  almost  value- 
less, as  they  are  too  minute  to  be  recognizable 
at  the  ordinary  distance  of  observation. 

Again,  they  can  be  grouped  according  to 
their  habits :  either  as  regards  their  habitat, 
as  land,  shore,  and  water  birds,  or  as  aerial  and 
terrestrial ;  or  with  a  view  to  their  differences 
of  diet,  as  carnivorous,  insectivorous,  and  gra- 
nivorous.  But,  while  all  these  differences  enter 
into  the  computation  of  a  bird's  status,  they 
are  too  indefinite  in  themselves  to  afford  any 
satisfactory  basis  of  arrangement. 

The  third  method,  while  in  a  sense  more 
superficial  and  arbitrary  than  either  of  the 
others,  is,  after  all,  the  most  feasible  for  merely 
cursory  study,  the  most  natural  for  outdoor  in- 
vestigation, and  the  method  which  any  one 
without  suggestion  would  inevitably  adopt  after 
a  year's  continuous  experience^  viz.,  grouping 
them  according  to  the  season  of  the  year  when 
they  appear.  However  shallow  this  system 
evidently  is,  it  is  none  the  less  efficient  for 
practical  purposes.  This  does  not  preclude  the 
more  detailed  grouping  according  to  their  evi- 
dent resemblances  of  form,  color,  habitat, 
habits,  and  temperament,  by  which  they  are 
found  to  be  differentiated ;  and  while  depend - 

47 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


ent  for  its  validity  upon  the  particular  geo- 
graphical location  of  the  observer,  this  third 
method  is  conditioned  by  some  very  interesting 
facts  of  science,  viz.,  the  laws  governing  their 
appearance  and  disappearance,  as  they  come 
and  go  periodically. 

As  the  object  of  these  pages  is  not  merely  to 
give  a  succinct  account  of  the  several  species 
one  is  likely  to  find  in  the  course  of  a  year's 
observation,  but  to  make  the  whole  scheme  of 
bird-life  more  intelligible  by  treating  briefly 
of  the  more  important  phenomena  observable 
among  them  collectively,  it  is  essential  to  speak 
of  that  curious  and  extremely  interesting  phase 
of  their  history — bird-migration  ;  and  no  time 
is  more  opportune  for  this  explanation  than 
February — "so  full  of  frost,  of  storm,  and 
cloudiness, ' '  so  unfavorable  for  outdoor  study, 
and  immediately  preceding  the  first  of  the 
year's  migrations. 

Even  the  most  unobservant  person  is  prob- 
ably aware  that  the  robins  and  bluebirds  ar- 
rive in  the  spring,  and  go  away  some  time  in 
the  fall ;  but  he  is  not  so  likely  to  know  that, 
on  the  other  hand,  there  are  many  species,  un- 
known to  him  by  name  or  appearance,  like 
kinglets,  nuthatches,  crossbills,  shrikes,  pine 
48 


February 

finches,  etc.,  which  reverse  this  order,  and 
only  come  at  the  approach  of  cold  weather  or 
in  mid-winter,  and  disappear  in  the  spring. 
He  may  be  equally  unfamiliar  with  the  fact  that 
still  other  species,  like  some  of  the  thrushes, 
finches,  warblers,  and  greenlets,  can  be  seen 
only  for  a  few  weeks  at  a  time  at  two  different 
periods  in  the  year,  and  is  perhaps  unaware 
that  a  very  few  species  are  to  be  found  in  the 
woods  throughout  the  whole  year. 

These  various  movements  are  not  due  to  the 
special  peculiarities  of  the  several  classes,  but  to 
the  law  controlling  them  all  equally,  and  the 
apparent  complexity  of  the  law  resolves  into 
the  utmost  simplicity  when  it  is  understood. 

Bird-migrations  are  all  in  the  direction  of 
north  and  south,  and  the  underlying  cause 
of  this  is  that  they  are  determined  chiefly  by 
the  two  considerations  of  temperature  and  food- 
supply.  With  uniform  climate  and  abundant 
subsistence,  birds  would  doubtless  remain  in 
their  several  localities,  or  approximately  so,  the 
entire  year.  In  that  case,  such  of  the  war- 
blers as  find  their  summer  home  in  northern 
New  England  and  Canada  would  also  remain 
there  throughout  the  winter,  and  we  should  not 
be  likely  to  see  them  except  at  the  personal  in- 

49 


The  Birds'  Calendar 

convenience  of  going  where  they  are.  Accord- 
ing to  nature's  laws  they  pay  us  a  flying  visit 
once  or  twice  a  year,  and  never  expect  the  call 
to  be  returned.  We  must  look  for  some  ur- 
gently impelling  motive  for  these  regular,  in- 
variable, and  immense  journeys  undertaken  so 
often  by  these  creatures.  We  can  hardly  sup- 
pose that  a  bird  that  spends  the  summer  in 
Labrador  or  Alaska  goes  down  to  Central  Amer- 
ica in  the  fall  and  back  again  in  the  spring  just 
for  the  pure  fun  of  it. 

Shakespeare's  allusion  to  a  bird  that  is  with 
us  in  the  midst  of  the  year  as 

"  This  guest  of  summer," 

is  a  poetic  license.  At  that  season  every  bird 
is  in  its  home,  and  not  a  guest  anywhere.  For 
the  true  home  of  a  bird  must  be  regarded  as 
the  place  where  it  nests  and  sings.  If  a  bird 
be  found  in  the  Arctic  zone  during  the  sing- 
ing and  breeding  season,  that  is  surely  its 
heart's  home,  however  far  it  may  travel  south- 
ward in  the  later  months  to  find  food,  or  to 
avoid  the  severity  of  winter's  cold.  When  we 
consider  what  strong  local  attachments  they 
manifest,  causing  them  not  only  to  return, 
hundreds  and  thousands  of  miles  to  the  very 

So 


February 

same  place,  but  frequently  to  nest  in  the  same 
tree  year  after  year,  we  may  well  believe  that 
only  some  strong  necessity  can  drive  them  an- 
nually so  far  away. 

With  the  exception  of  the  very  few  that  are 
permanent  the  year  round,  such  birds  as  sum- 
mer in  this  region  move  southward  in  the  fall, 
not  only  for  warmth,  but  doubtless,  in  many 
cases,  for  the  more  potent  reason  that  the  fruit, 
grain,  insects,  etc.,  on  which  they  have  been 
feeding  are  no  longer  obtainable  in  this  lati- 
tude. Thus  the  bobolink  is  also  called  ' '  rice- 
bird,"  indicating  the  character  of  its  sustenance 
while  in  the  south.  It  may  well  be  doubted 
whether  the  robin  lacks  the  physical  hardihood 
to  withstand  a  northern  winter,  as  it  is  fre- 
quently found  in  New  England  throughout  that 
season  ;  but  in  the  absence  of  fruits,  grubs,  and 
especially  earth-worms,  which  are  its  main  sub- 
sistence, it  has  a  very  precarious  existence,  and 
ample  cause  for  retirement  to  the  south. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  hardier  species  that 
from  one  cause  and  another  summer  in  the  far 
north,  like  nuthatches,  kinglets,  and  crossbills, 
coming  southward  at  the  approach  of  cold 
weather,  find  in  this  latitude  both  a  tolerable 
climate  and  adequate  subsistence  in  the  eggs 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


and  larvae  of  insects  abundant  in  the  bark  of  so 
many  trees,  and  also  in  the  meagre  supply  of 
berries  and  seeds  still  clinging  to  the  branches 
and  to  the  dead  stalks  of  last  year's  growth. 
And,  by  the  way,  we  are  greatly  indebted  to 
these  graceful  and  unobtrusive  little  scavengers 
for  their  constant  service  in  ridding  the  trees  of 
that  which,  if  allowed  to  live  and  develop,  would 
prove  so  injurious,  if  not  fatal,  to  our  forests. 

Thus,  from  one  and  the  same  cause,  as  cold 
weather  approaches,  the  more  northern  species 
come  to  us,  and  our  own  summer  birds  go 
south,  while  in  spring  the  migration  is  reversed. 
This  accounts  for  the  semi-annual  appearance 
and  disappearance  of  the  two  groups  known  as 
summer  residents  and  winter  residents,  which 
being  with  us  for  the  longest  periods  comprise 
all  the  best-known  species.  It  should  be  re- 
marked in  this  connection  that  the  permanence 
of  some  species  remaining  in  one  locality  the 
year  round  is  doubtless  often  secured  by  replace- 
ment of  some  individuals  going  south  by  har- 
dier ones  from  the  north,  and  vice  versa. 

In  anatomy  and  habits  the  several  species  of 
each  of  these  two  groups  are  widely  different 
from  each  other.  Size  is  no  criterion  of  hardi- 
ness, as  some  of  the  smallest  birds  are  the  most 


February 


vigorous,  while  many  of  the  largest  are  the 
most  delicate.  The  most  conspicuous  differ- 
ence between  the  two  groups  is  in  the  generally 
neutral  coloring  of  winter  birds,  and  the  mere 
brilliant  plumage  of  the  summer  species.  Black 
and  white  and  brown  are  prevalent  in  winter ; 
yellow,  red,  blue,  and  crimson  are  frequent  in 
summer. 

It  remains  to  speak  of  the  third  group,  which, 
in  the  latitude  of  New  York,  is  perhaps  as  large 
as  the  summer  group,  comprising  all  of  the  least 
known,  but  many  of  the  most  interesting  and 
beautiful  species,  resident  here  neither  in  sum- 
mer nor  winter,  and  strictly  "transients." 
They  are  such  as  go  to  greater  extremes  in  their 
semi-annual  migration  than  any  of  the  foregoing. 

Summering  in  northern  New  England,  Cana- 
da, Labrador,  and  even  in  the  Arctic  regions, 
like  the  fox  sparrow  and  many  other  finches, 
some  of  the  Brushes,  but  especially  the  warblers, 
they  do  not  find  our  climate  congenial,  nor 
agreeable  food-supplies  for  the  winter  months, 
and  their  fall  migrations  carry  them  farther 
south,  even  as  far  sometimes  as  Mexico  and 
Central  America.  As  a  consequence  we  are 
able  to  see  them  only  in  their  passage  to  and 
fro.  And  practically  our  observation  of  many 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


of  them  is  confined  to  their  spring  passage.  It 
is  a  peculiar  fact,  for  which  I  can  find  no  ex- 
planation, that  some  species  seem  to  choose  a 
different  route  for  the  fall  migration  from  that 
in  the  spring — passing  to  the  north  through  the 
Atlantic  States,  and  even  near  the  coast  in 
spring,  but  taking  a  more  inland  course  on  their 
return.  The  added  fact  that  the  fall  migration 
is  made  in  smaller  flocks,  and  apparently  with 
fewer  delays  on  the  route,  accounts  for  their  es- 
caping observation  even  when  their  course  is  the 
same.  Strictly  speaking,  all  birds  not  permanent 
in  one  place  throughout  the  year  are  migrants  ; 
but,  for  convenience  in  distinguishing  this  group 
from  the  other  two,  the  term  is  commonly  ap- 
plied only  to  those  that  neither  summer  nor 
winter  with  us,  and  can  be  seen  only  in  transit. 
The  approach  of  warm  weather — the  new 
impulse  of  life — starts  them  in  successive  flocks 
northward.  Moving  by  easy  stages,  so  that 
their  advance  accords  with  the  later  opening 
of  spring  in  more  northerly  latitudes,  they 
stop  for  a  brief  season  here  and  there,  and 
it  is  often  several  weeks  before  they  reach 
their  final  destination.  Evidently  no  one 
species  moves  in  a  body,  as  they  seem  to  come 
in  successive  "waves."  In  making  a  tour  of 

54 


February 

investigation  after  an  unusually  vernal  day  (and 
especially  after  one  or  two  warm  and  cloudy 
nights),  one  is  likely  to  find  fresh  accessions  to 
such  species  as  had  already  appeared,  as  well 
as  forerunners  of  new  species.  Thus,  while  it 
may  be  true  that  none  of  the  individuals  re- 
main more  than  a  few  days  in  a  place,  replen- 
ishment will  keep  a  species  represented  in  a 
given  locality  for  many  weeks,  which  is  most 
fortunate  for  the  student. 

The  fall  migrations  are  less  favorable  for  ob- 
servations, not  only  for  reasons  already  given, 
but  for  others  to  be  cited  hereafter,  so  that  we 
must  rely  chiefly  upon  our  opportunities  in 
April  and  May  for  learning  what  we  can  of  the 
"migrants."  Without  special  attention  given 
to  the  subject  during  this  period,  one  will  never 
make  the  acquaintance  of  some  of  the  most 
beautiful  and  rare  specimens,  and  some  of  the 
finest  singers  as  well. 

The  migratory  movement  of  birds  begins,  for 
this  latitude,  sometimes  as  early  as  the  middle 
of  February,  when  the  song  sparrows  begin  to 
appear,  and  the  snow-birds  considerably  increase 
in  number,  and  continues  until  a  little  into  June. 
One  of  the  last  migrants  to  disappear  is  the 
olive-backed  thrush,  which  I  saw  June  2d ;  and 

55 


The  Birds'  Calendar 

one  of  the  very  latest  warblers  is  the  "black- 
poll,"  which  was  still  here  June  4th.  But  the 
main  host  makes  its  passage  between  the  mid- 
dle of  April  and  the  middle  of  May. 

The  area  occupied  summer  or  winter  by  any 
species  can  never  be  stated  with  precision,  as  it 
will  vary  somewhat  even  from  year  to  year. 
According  to  temperature  and  other  conditions, 
the  ' '  wave ' '  may  sweep  a  little  farther  north  or 
south.  A  winter  species  may  not  appear  for 
several  years,  and  then  be  reported  in  great 
numbers.  I  think  this  is  the  case  this  winter 
in  New  England  with  the  pine  grosbeak,  which 
has  been  rare  for  many  seasons,  and  now  seems 
to  be  quite  plentiful,  one  correspondent  inform- 
ing me  he  has  seen  hundreds  of  them.  The 
severity  of  climate  and  perhaps  scarcity  of  food 
have  evidently  driven  them  in  great  numbers 
from  the  north. 

As  we  approach  the  boundaries  of  its  range, 
the  individuals  of  a  species  are  likely  to  become 
more  and  more  infrequent,  which  makes  the 
range  more  difficult  to  determine.  But  the 
increasing  rarity  of  a  species  toward  its  boun- 
daries, and  the  uncertainty  involved  in  their 
fluctuating  movements,  give  additional  zest  in 
the  search  for  specimens. 

56 


February 

Thus  bird-life  has  its  annual  tide,  whose 
"flow"  and  "ebb"  approximately  coincide 
with  the  months  of  spring  and  fall,  while  the 
intervening  seasons  of  summer  and  winter  are 
the  periods  of  quiescence. 

In feren dally  from  the  foregoing  account  of 
migration,  the  birds  for  February  are  much  the 
same  as  for  January.  Yet  this  does  not  pre- 
clude many  interesting  discoveries  in  any  given 
area.  They  are  now  in  a  roaming  state  within 
their  congenial  latitude,  and  not  bound  by  any 
of  the  so-called  "  domestic  ties  "  within  very 
close  limitations.  They  wander  hither  and 
thither,  either  singly  or  in  pairs,  or  in  larger 
or  smaller  flocks,  having  no  particular  aim  in 
life  except  to  keep  as  comfortable  as  possible, 
and  to  find  something  to  eat.  A  specimen 
found  anywhere  in  January  will  perhaps  remain 
in  that  immediate  vicinity  till  spring,  or  it  may 
wander  off  more  than  a  hundred  miles.  Their 
instincts  and  circumstances  are  so  unknown  to 
us,  that  we  can  feel  that  we  may  be  on  the  verge 
of  a  discovery  at  any  instant. 


The  demands  of  nature  are  paramount,  and 
in  the  sharpness  of  hunger  one  will  not  be  over- 

57 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


fastidious  as  to  the  company  he  keeps.  One 
morning,  when  the  newly  fallen  snow  had  seri- 
ously limited  the  natural  supplies  of  food,  I 
found  an  incongruous  but  apparently  happy 
family  feeding  most  amicably  at  a  spot  where 
provision  is  regularly  made — a  gathering  com- 
posed of  peacocks,  pigeons,  several  squirrels, 
English  sparrows,  "white-throats,"  cardinals, 
and  a  huge  but  famishing  rat !  While  the 
rest  of  the  company  did  not  openly  resent  the 
intrusion  of  this  base  quadruped,  and  merely 
ignored  him  in  the  most  distant  and  polite 
manner,  it  was  evident  that  he  felt  an  inde- 
scribable chill  in  the  atmosphere,  for  he  was 
plainly  ill  at  ease  amid  so  much  beauty  and 
elegance,  and  he  soon  made  his  own  motion, 
and  seconded  it,  to  withdraw. 

The  Park  is  a  paradise  for  the  squirrels. 
One  morning  in  a  walk  I  counted  about  thirty, 
chasing  through  the  trees,  swaying  in  sheer 
sportiveness  on  slender  branches  that  threatened 
to  break  beneath  their  weight,  or  sunning 
themselves  by  lying  prone  against  the  trunks, 
heads  downward,  or  ensconced  under  the  can- 
opy of  their  bushy  tails  enjoying  a  lunch. 
They  realize  their  immunity  from  danger,  and 
often,  with  the  freedom  and  shamelessness  of  pro- 

58 


February 

fessional  beggars,  will  follow  people  about  in  the 
hope  of  getting  a  dainty  morsel  from  the  chari- 
table public.  Either  in  intimacy  or  desperation 
I  have  sometimes  had  them  run  up  my  trousers. 
Now  and  then  a  wild  rabbit  starts  up  at  your 
approach  and  dashes  out  of  sight ;  and  one  after- 
noon the  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle,  that  called  up 
visions  of  blasted  hopes  and  black  despair,  the 
victims  of  which  seem  to  regard  the  Park  as  an 
attractive  place  wherein  with  powder  and  ball 
to  seek  the  quietus  of  all  their  woes,  quickly 
gathered  the  passers-by  to  a  spot  beneath  the 
trees.  The  tragic  episode  (for  the  ball  reached 
its  intended  mark,  and  the  inanimate  form  lay 
stretched  on  the  ground)  proved  to  be  the  sud- 
den and  violent  demise  of  Reynard,  encroach- 
ing too  far  within  the  confines  of  the  metropo- 
lis. He  would  have  done  better  to  remain  in 
his  wild  woodland  home  ;  but,  like  thousands  of 
others,  he  did  not  know  what  was  good  for 
him,  and  was  ambitious  to  go  to  the  city  !  and 
his  name  is  added  to  the  long  roll  of  unfortu- 
nates of  whom  city  life  has  been  the  ruination. 


A  new  and  beautiful  sight  this  month  is  a 
flock  of  European  goldfinches.     The  attempt  is 

59 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


made  from  time  to  time  to  introduce  and  accli- 
mate in  this  country  some  of  the  noted  species 
of  Europe  ;  but  unfortunately  many,  if  not  most, 
of  such  efforts  prove  fruitless.  One  day  I  met 
in  the  Park  a  gentleman  whose  philanthropy  in 
this  direction  induces  him  yearly  to  have  a  hun- 
dred or  more  specimens  sent  over.  He  had 
imported  a  large  number  of  chaffinches,  one  of 
the  most  popular  birds  in  England,  and  turned 
them  loose  in  the  Park,  and  was  vainly  inquir- 
ing what  had  become  of  them.  The  starling 
has  also  been  brought  over,  and  I  suspect  that 
on  two  occasions  I  have  seen  it,  as  it  answered 
the  description  as  far  as  I  could  ascertain. 
This  being  the  songless  season,  the  question  was 
left  in  doubt. 

The  European  goldfinch,  which  an  ornitho- 
logical writer  of  England  calls  "  the  most  beauti- 
ful of  all  our  [their]  resident  birds,"  is  one  of  the 
very  few  thus  introduced  that  are  breeding  wild 
in  this  country,  but  so  rarely  found  that  they 
are  not  yet  reckoned  among  our  birds  in  books 
of  ornithology.  In  some  respects  they  are  su- 
perior to  our  American  goldfinches,  not  on  the 
principle  that  an  imported  article  is  the  best, 
but  as  being  rather  finer  vocalists  and  with 
plumage  a  little  richer.  It  is  about  five  inches 
60 


February 

long,  the  fore  part  of  the  face  is  red  about  the 
bill,  and  the  rest  of  the  head  pure  black  and 
white,  the  breast  white,  with  a  tinge  of  soft 
brown  on  each  side,  and  the  dark  wings  con- 
spicuously striped  with  yellow.  They  are  not 
yet  in  song,  but  their  call-note  has  the  same  sad 
quality  found  in  the  American  species  (hence 
the  specific  name  of  the  latter,  tristis).  The 
red  mask,  the  abrupt  black  and  white  of  the 
head,  and  the  yellow  wing- bars  give  a  striking 
appearance  to  this  dainty  specimen.  Its  winter 
and  summer  plumage  are  the  same ;  whereas  its 
American  congener,  in  its  sober  winter  garb  of 
chocolate-brown,  would  never  be  recognized  by 
those  who  only  know  of  its  bright  yellow  dress 
donned  in  April.  The  European  species  is  the 
more  abundant  hereabouts  this  winter,  although 
not  hardier  than  the  other. 

The  "live  stock"  of  the  Park,  consisting 
chiefly  of  swans,  ducks,  and  geese,  are  wintered 
in  a  small  basin  at  the  end  of  the  lake.  It  is 
amusing,  on  a  breezy  day,  to  see  half  a  dozen 
swans  floating,  with  heads  laid  back  under  the 
wing,  doubtless  asleep,  and  drifting  about  in 
the  wind,  like  so  many  dismasted  yachts.  I 
have  never  been  so  struck  with  the  fact  that 
the  effect  of  any  object  depends  so  largely  upon 
61 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


its  surroundings,  as  in  looking  at  the  swans.  A 
pair  of  them  on  a  great  lake  look  large  and  im- 
posing ;  twenty  of  them  huddled  together  in  a 
little  basin  look  contemptibly  small. 


As  one  waiting  for  the  morning  looks  eagerly 
for  the  first  faint  flush  in  the  east,  so  the  natu- 
ralist in  this  latitude  by  the  middle  of  February 
begins  to  strain  eye  and  ear  for  the  earliest  signs 
of  spring.  These  tokens  are  found  in  a  slight 
increase  of  some  of  the  birds,  in  their  passing 
from  mere  call-notes  to  twitters,  and  in  an 
occasional  sporadic  song,  like  a  spring-flower 
caught  blooming  beneath  the  snow. 

On  the  1 6th  snow-birds  began  to  twitter, 
the  song  sparrow  broke  forth  into  melody,  and 
high  on  a  branch,  its  bright,  ruddy  breast  never 
more  beautiful  and  welcome,  appeared  the  first 
robin  of  the  season.  In  these  days  what  a  faint 
undercurrent  of  life  now  and  then  bubbles  to 
the  surface ;  just  as  in  a  mountainous  country, 
long  before  sunrise,  peak  after  peak  is  softly 
tipped  with  rosy  light. 

These  are  delusive  days.  A  whiff  of  spring 
to-day  gets  buried  under  two  feet  of  snow  to- 
morrow. Yet  one  feels  that  things  are  not 
62 


WHITE-BREASTED    NUTHATCHES 


February 

quite  as  they  were  before.  It  is  the  magic 
sound  of  the  earliest  song  sparrow  that  strikes 
the  first  blow  at  winter's  fetters,  and  ever  after 
hope  will  blossom  on  amid  the  snow  and  ice. 

Later  came  a  flock  of  cedar-birds,  also  called 
cherry-birds  and  wax-wings,  an  unusually  at- 
tractive specimen,  although  not  brilliantly  at- 
tired. Its  head  is  conspicuously  crested,  the 
whole  body  of  a  soft  and  rich  light-brown  color, 
and  its  form  is  particularly  graceful.  The  tip 
of  the  tail  is  yellow,  and  the  name  of  wax -wing 
is  clue  to  the  presence  on  the  wings  and  some- 
times on  the  tail  of  small  appendages  resem- 
bling bits  of  red  sealing-wax  in  mature  speci- 
mens. It  is  not  known  what  purpose  this 
peculiarity  serves,  but  it  is  hazardous  to  affirm 
that  it  is  merely  an  ornamental  excrescence.  It 
winters  and  summers  throughout  the  United 
States,  although  retiring  somewhat  to  the  south 
in  cold  weather. 

There  are  only  three  species  of  wax -wings  in 
the  world,  two  of  them  in  North  America,  the 
third  in  Japan.  The  other  North  American 
species  is  called  the  Bohemian  or  Northern  wax- 
wing.  Its  southern  boundary  about  coincides 
with  the  northern  tier  of  States,  and,  except  that 
it  is  slightly  larger  than  the  other  (our  own  be- 

63 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


ing  about  seven  inches  long,  and  the  Bohemian 
about  eight),  and  with  a  slightly  different  tinge 
of  brown,  it  is  scarcely  distinguishable  from  the 
cedar-bird. 

It  is  very  common  for  any  type  of  bird  to 
have  distinct  varieties  in  north  and  south,  and 
often  in  east  and  west.  Thus  among  the  more 
familiar  birds  we  find  a  northern  and  a  southern 
variety  of  the  chickadee,  the  wren,  the  shrike, 
and  the  nuthatch,  although  the  range  of  the  two 
nuthatches  differs  less.  East  and  west  also  have 
their  counterparts  in  sparrows,  bluebirds,  robins, 
and  many  others.  The  western  robin  much  re- 
sembles the  eastern,  but  has  a  black  band  across 
the  breast.  In  these  cases  the  difference  seems 
to  be  more  in  plumage  than  in  habits.  It  will 
be  one  of  the  most  interesting  discoveries  in  re- 
gard to  birds  when  we  learn  the  causes  that 
differentiate  a  genus  into  its  species,  causes 
which  it  is  to  be  presumed  are  of  the  same  nat- 
ure, though  not  on  so  broad  a  scale,  as  those 
which  from  the  original  type  of  bird  have  pro- 
duced classes,  orders,  families,  and  genera. 

The  vocal  powers  of  the  cedar-bird  are  very 
limited,  as  it  can  produce  only  a  faint  whistle 
or  lisp,  much  like  a  note  sometimes  produced 
by  the  robin,  but  not  so  asthmatic. 
64 


February 

A  farmer  and  a  naturalist  look  at  objects  from 
totally  different  points  of  view,  and  what  com- 
mands the  admiration  of  the  latter  may  excite 
only  the  contempt  of  the  former.  The  cedar- 
bird  is  a  case  in  point ;  and  its  grace  and  color 
count  for  nothing  with  the  brawny  agricultu- 
rist who  finds  it  plundering  his  cherry-trees. 
As  regards  a  bird's  reputation,  Shakespeare's 
words  are  often  true,  "  The  evil  that  it  does  lives 
after  it,  the  good  is  oft  interred  with  its 
bones,"  which  is  as  applicable  to  a  bird  as  to  a  man. 
The  theft  of  a  few  cherries  or  other  fruit  is  an 
obvious  fact,  which  the  owner  is  not  likely  to 
forget ;  but  the  same  bird's  destruction  of  thou- 
sands of  noxious  insects,  which  are  its  staple  diet, 
is  not  charged  to  its  credit.  The  ravages  of  all 
the  birds  put  together  are  but  a  petty  annoyance 
compared  with  the  immeasurable  advantage  of 
their  presence  in  orchard,  garden,  and  field. 

Years  after  the  event,  the  ornithologist  will 
tell  you  the  precise  spot  where  he  discovered  a 
new  species,  or  first  heard  its  song,  and  even 
what  part  of  the  day  it  was,  and  whether  the 
sun  was  shining.  The  whole  atmosphere  of 
the  scene  is  woven  into  the  memory,  and  is 
suggested  instantly,  just  as  the  faintest  odor  will 
sometimes  recall  the  scenes  of  long  ago. 

65 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


Thus  I  shall  never  forget  the  first  song  of 
the  European  goldfinch  as  it  greeted  the  morn- 
ing sun  on  the  last  day  of  February.  Much  as 
it  resembles  that  of  the  American  species  it  is 
distinctly  different — so  rich,  liquid,  and  bub- 
bling. The  captious  critic  would  say  it  is  not 
all  that  could  be  desired — nothing  is,  for  that 
matter — for  with  all  its  luscious  and  exuberant 
qualities  it  is  characterless  as  regards  form,  as  in 
our  own  species,  but  without  the  wiriness  and 
undertone  of  petulance  so  often  found  in  the 
latter.  It  is  a  most  valuable  accession  to  the 
avifauna  of  this  country,  and  may  it  live  and 
thrive,  and  never  regret  its  translation  to  these 
shores. 

Leaving  the  finch  to  its  own  jubilation,  I 
soon  heard  the  sharp  chuck,  uttered  singly,  of 
the  downy  woodpecker.  These  woodpeckers 
are  not  singers,  even  in  the  most  charitable 
construction  of  the  term,  and  it  is  difficult  to 
interpret  their  state  of  mind  from  the  sounds 
they  make.  Doubtless  he  was  as  happy  as  the 
finch,  only  lacking  the  gift  to  express  himself; 
like  the  swans,  that  plainly  feel  the  exhilaration 
of  spring  warmth  as  much  as  anybody,  and  wax 
exceedingly  vociferous  if  not  melodious  thereat. 

Farther  on  the  simple  carol  of  the  song  spar- 

66 


Pe 


bruary 


row  rose  on  the  air;  but  the  "white-throats," 
whose  time  has  not  yet  come,  were  busying 
themselves  silently.  A  pair  of  robins  crossed 
my  path ;  and  the  handsome  cardinal,  like  a 
presiding  genius  in  the  scene,  was  flitting  from 
tree  to  tree ;  while  the  little  chickadee  was  as 
full  of  pranks  as  the  irrepressible  youngest  child 
in  the  family. 

These  were  the  auspicious  premonitions  of 
spring  that  I  found  on  the  28th  of  February. 
But  the  calendar  is  wrong  in  saying  that  spring 
comes  in  with  March.  For  three  weeks  longer 
night  triumphs  over  day.  But  such  unwonted 
throbs  of  life  are  not  prompted  by  old  Boreas. 
Already  the  eastern  sky  shows  a  peculiar,  per- 
haps half-imagined  glow,  and  there  is  a  balmy 
presentiment  abroad. 


March 


1  And  when  the  shining  sun  laugheth  once, 
You  deemen  the  spring  cometh  at  once." 

Spenser. 


MARCH 

JHAT  a  peculiar  pleasure  there  is  in 
finding  the  very  first  signs  of  life  in 
all  its  forms,  as  they  appear  after 
the  coldness,  the  barrenness,  and  the 
silence  of  the  long  winter  !  How  fair  and 
sweet  looks  the  newly  discovered  anemone  amid 
its  coarse  surroundings,  and  the  earliest  robin- 
song  has  a  glorified  sound. 

It  is  indeed  a  thoughtful  provision  of  nature 
that  periodically  the  current  of  life  should  so 
generally  stop  its  flow,  or  at  least  be  lost  to 
sight,  so  that  with  each  new  year  the  earth's 
reinvigoration  shall  appeal  with  fresh  force  and 
delight  to  our  senses.  How  monotonous  the 
choicest  plant  and  bird  would  ultimately  be- 
come, if  they  were  always  blossoming  and 
singing.  The  spice  of  infrequency  is  nature's 
great  seasoner.  Who  would  hunt  so  eagerly  at 
each  return  of  spring  for  the  hepatica  and  arbu- 
tus, or  listen  so  intently  for  the  song  sparrow 
and  bluebird,  if  he  were  not  seeking  long-lost 

71 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


favorites  ?  With  the  current  of  life  ever  full  and 
steady  in  its  flow,  all  of  the  exhilaration  of 
spring,  its  exultation  and  enthusiasm,  would 
disappear,  for  spring  itself  would  cease  to  be, 
As  Shakespeare  puts  it — 

' '  How  many  things  by  season  season'd  are 
To  their  right  praise  and  true  perfection  !  " 

In  his  periodical  regret  at  losing  his  wood- 
land friends,  the  ornithologist  or  botanist  is 
forgetting  that  if  they  did  not  go  away  they 
could  not  come  again.  Nature's  plans  are 
formed,  not  for  the  best  effect  of  a  single  year, 
but  for  the  greatest  aggregate  of  effect  for  all 
time.  Even  music  itself  is  permeated  through 
and  through  with  discord ;  not  because  of  itself 
can  it  ever  please,  but  for  its  power  in  contrast 
to  enhance  the  concord.  Discord  is  as  hateful 
to  the  ear  as  darkness  to  the  eye,  but  they  are 
the  necessary  foils  of  harmony  and  light,  as 
winter  is  of  spring. 

We  shall  have  to  be  very  differently  con- 
stituted before  we  shall  be  satisfied  to  live 
under  the  constant  blaze  of  the  poet's  "  high, 
eternal  noon."  Nor  yet — not  to  be  too  par- 
ticular— do  I  think  that  any  one  is  quite  will- 
ing to  go  to  that  equally  monotonous  place 

72 


March 


where  we  are  told  that  ' '  everlasting  spring 
abides, ' '  at  least  in  any  mundane  interpretation 
of  the  phrase.  Our  spirits  are  constitutionally 
in  harmony  with  nature's  law  of  regular  varia- 
tion in  our  surroundings,  and  immutability  and 
monotony  are  closely  associated  in  our  minds. 
However  admirable  in  many  ways  the  pines, 
spruces,  and  cedars  are,  every  one  must  feel,  as 
compared  with  the  deciduous  trees,  how  remote 
they  are  from  human  sympathy,  in  an  im- 
mobility that  suppresses  all  impulsiveness.  The 
several  successive  aspects  of  deciduous  growth — 
the  bud  and  blossom,  fruitage  and  decay — are 
types  of  man's  development  that  cannot  fail  to 
win  regard.  That  commonest  of  all  weeds,  the 
dandelion — ' '  composite ' '  parable — in  one  short 
month  how  it  epitomizes  the  bounds  of  human 
life  —  its  glittering  youth,  and  hoary -headed 
age. 

Another  advantage  in  the  alternation  of  sea- 
sons is,  as  one  has  expressed  it,  that  "  this 
charming  renewal  every  spring  deceives  us  as 
to  ourselves.  We  think  ourselves  every  year  as 
the  oak  which  is  in  leaf,  and  set  out  again  with 
it. ' '  As  glad  as  the  child  is  to  grow  old,  so 
eager  are  the  old  to  be  young  again. 

Although  an  occasional  balmy  day  turns  our 

73 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


thoughts  to  the  glad  coming  time,  the  birds  are 
not  so  easily  deceived  as  man,  and  the  winter 
species  are  still  here  in  full  force,  while  the 
migrants  linger  in  the  south. 

Early  in  the  month  I  found  a  small  flock  of 
an  interesting  sort  in  a  group  of  evergreens, 
called  red  crossbills.  They  are  about  six  inches 
long  (the  size  of  the  familiar  English  sparrow), 
the  male  of  a  brick-red  color,  with  dark  wings 
and  tail,  while  the  female  is  olive-green  with 
a  yellowish  suffusion.  The  sexes  are  often  thus 
differently  colored,  sometimes  so  much  so  that 
it  would  not  seem  that  they  could  belong  to 
the  same  species.  Throughout  the  feathered 
tribe,  with  (it  is  said)  only  one  exception  as  far 
as  known,  wherever  the  sexes  differ  in  plumage 
it  is  the  male  that  makes  the  finest  appearance. 

Although  not  especially  handsome,  the  cross- 
bills are  very  graceful  in  motion  and  attitude, 
as  they  cling  to  the  swaying  evergreen  branches, 
and  skilfully  extract  the  food  from  the  cones. 
In  this  operation  they  are  doubtless  aided, 
though  at  first  sight  one  would  suppose  them 
to  be  seriously  hindered,  by  that  peculiarity  of 
anatomy  from  which  they  receive  the  name  of 
crossbill ;  for  it  looks  as  if  the  lower  half  of  the 
bill  (called  mandible)  were  twisted  out  of  posi- 

74 


RED    CROSSBILL 


March 


tion,  and  thus  the  two  mandibles,  instead  of 
matching  each  other,  as  in  other  species,  over- 
lap. Both  parts  being  rather  long  and  curved 
at  the  end,  it  has  an  awkward  appearance ;  but 
the  bird  is  thus  provided  with  a  doubly  hooked 
apparatus  that  is  very  ingenious.  Mankind  is 
a  very  superficial  critic  as  to  the  wisdom  and 
utility  of  nature's  manifold  devices. 

These  birds  seem  to  subsist  largely  upon  the 
seeds  of  cones,  and  are  therefore  commonly 
seen  in  the  evergreens,  although  they  some- 
times eat  berries,  and  in  the  spring  do  some 
injury  by  attacking  the  buds  of  various  trees. 
They  breed  far  to  the  north,  and  are  reported 
to  have  done  so  in  rare  instances  in  northern 
New  England.  In  this  region  they  are  not  seen 
with  the  regularity  of  most  of  the  winter  species, 
although  perhaps  not  to  be  called  rare.  As 
they  hovered  about  the  trees  they  indulged  in 
a  peculiar  and  innocent  twitter,  which  attracted 
my  attention,  as  being  unusual,  and  uttered 
much  louder  chirps  as  they  flew  away.  They 
lingered  about  the  Park  for  some  weeks,  and 
there  were  evidently  two  pairs  of  them. 

There  is  another  species  of  crossbill,  called 
the  white-winged,  which  any  one  is  fortunate 
to  see,  not  for  its  greater  beauty,  but  for  the 

75 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


rather  questionable  value  of  rarity.  Its  habits 
are  the  same  as  those  of  the  common  crossbill, 
except  that  its  range  is  more  northerly,  and 
differs  in  appearance  only  in  having  white  wing- 
bars. 

If  a  bird  has  any  ambition  to  be  duly  ad- 
mired and  appreciated,  it  should  be  wise  enough 
to  put  in  an  appearance  in  winter  or  early 
spring,  when  it  will  receive  the  warmest  wel- 
come and  full  measure  of  praise. 


There  are  some  scenes  in  nature  that  make 
a  peculiarly  vivid  impression,  and  linger  for 
years  in  the  memory.  An  experience  of  this 
sort  came  in  a  morning's  walk  early  in  March, 
after  a  fall  of  damp  snow  that  clung  to  every 
trunk  and  branch  and  tiniest  twig  in  the  thickly 
wooded  Ramble,  presenting  a  spectacle  that 
far  surpassed  all  the  luxuriant  beauty  of  foliage 
and  bloom  that  a  few  weeks  afterward  replaced 
this  momentary  shroud. 

Beneath  a  leaden  sky  the  woods  yet  glowed 
with  a  soft,  almost  unearthly  light,  and  in  the 
utter  stillness  and  solitude  the  long  paths,  over- 
arched with  sweeping  whitened  elms,  seemed 
like  long  aisles  in  a  vast  cathedral  whose  mas- 
76 


March 


sive  marble  pillars  sustained  a  roof  elaborate 
with  richest  traceries. 

"  How  calm,  how  solemn,  how  sublime  the  scene  !  " 

For  the  nonce  it  was  veritably  nature's  tem- 
ple. No  wealth  of  vegetation  could  equal  the 
cold  grandeur  of  the  display  which  in  a  brief 
hour  melted  away  as  silently  as  it  came,  but 
left  an  impression  as  abiding  as  it  was  unique. 


My  diary  for  March  zd  mentions  the  finding 
of  three  robins  in  fine  plumage,  and  at  this  sea- 
son a  little  life  and  a  little  bright  color  go  a 
great  way.  A  few  days  after  comes  the  longer 
record  of  chickadees,  nuthatches,  white-throats, 
cardinals,  a  flicker,  a  downy  woodpecker  (its 
crimson  patch  showing  it  to  be  the  male),  a 
European  goldfinch  in  song,  and  the  crossbills. 


Spring — the  rosy  promise  of  an  unknown 
year — is  clearly  in  the  air  !  The  quiet  of  win- 
ter's low-tide  is  at  an  end.  One  has  no  longer 
to  strengthen  suspicion  with  imagination.  The 
song  sparrow,  that  faithful  harbinger,  is  pro- 
claiming the  vernal  fact  on  every  side  in  its 

77 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


simple  hearty  strain,  seeming  to  voice  the  salu- 
tation of  Spring  herself,  as  expressed  in  the  lines 
of  the  poet — 

"  I  come,  I  come  !   ye  have  call'd  me  long  ; 
I  come  o'er  the  mountains  with  light  and  song  ! " 

A  bird's  instinct  in  these  matters  is  fully  as 
trustworthy  as  farmers'  almanacs  and  astronomi- 
cal data. 

March  is  a  transition  month,  a  sort  of  com- 
posite photograph  of  winter  and  spring,  when 
nature  is  in  that  uneasy  stir  that  betokens  the 
end  of  her  long  slumber.  To  call  such  a  gruff 
and  blustering  old  fellow  as  March  a  coquet 
seems  incongruous  ;  yet  he  has  a  grim  and 
fickle  humor  that  is  a  sort  of  masculine  counter- 
part to  the  more  dainty  trick  of  the  feminine 
mind.  This  characteristic  and  prevalent  mood 
of  the  month  is  quaintly  suggested  in  the  coup- 
let that  heads  the  month's  record.  March  is 
alluring  and  provoking.  One  instant  he  will 
graciously  present  the  most  beguiling  token  of 
benignant  spring,  which  in  the  next  he  rudely 
blows  away  with  boisterous  winds. 

The  first  sound  of  the  song  sparrow  falls  on 
the  senses  like  a  bit  of  unexpected  sunshine  in 
a  stormy  day,  and  raises  the  temperature  of 

78 


March 


one's  feelings  many  degrees,  for  in  a  twinkling 
it  breaks  the  spell  of  winter.  To  be  sure,  the 
enthusiasm  of  this  jubilant  herald  always  makes 
it  a  little  premature  in  its  first  outburst ;  but  in 
the  occasional  snow-storms  still  to  come,  though 
perplexed,  it  is  not  cast  down.  This  is  one  way 
of  interpreting  its  announcement ;  perhaps  we 
should  do  more  justice  to  the  bird,  leaving  its 
instinct  free  from  the  taint  of  fallibility,  by  re- 
garding it  as  a  prophet,  to  whose  vision  the 
future  is  so  clear  that  he  regards  it  as  already 
present. 

A  plain,  unpretentious  bird  is  this,  but  a  fa- 
vorite with  all  who  know  it ;  for  what  it  lacks  in 
beauty  it  more  than  makes  up  in  good  works. 
The  earliest  herald  of  spring,  it  is  still  pouring 
forth  its  sprightly  chant  by  the  wayside  in  the 
fall,  after  all  the  other  choristers  are  silent. 
The  old  adage,  "  Fine  feathers  make  fine  birds," 
is  a  libel  on  man's  discernment,  and  abundantly 
disproved  in  numerous  instances.  The  robin, 
song  sparrow,  and  bluebird  are  household  names 
in  this  country,  like  robin  red-breast,  lark,  and 
nightingale  in  Europe ;  and  the  former  have 
sung  their  way  into  our  hearts  without  being 
even  notable  singers,  according  to  the  highest 
standards  of  bird-vocalization  ;  and  so  far  from 

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The  Birds'  Calendar 


the  European  or  the  American  favorites  getting 
their  renown  from  "  fine  feathers,"  they  are  at 
best  only  modestly  attired,  and  the  song  spar- 
row and  lark  are  severely  plain.  A  bird's  per- 
sonality— for  it  has  a  personality  very  distinct, 
however  circumscribed — is  a  complex  matter, 
compounded  of  many  qualities,  among  which 
plumage  is  one  of  the  less  important. 

The  sparrows  are  the  largest  subdivision  of 
the  largest  family  of  birds — the  finch  family. 
This  family  includes,  besides  the  more  typical 
finches,  the  sparrows,  buntings,  linnets,  gros- 
beaks, and  crossbills.  As  a  family  they  may  be 
called  rather  plain  in  appearance,  although  it  is 
a  rule  that  has  many  exceptions,  such  as  the 
cardinal  and  rose-breasted  grosbeaks  and  the 
goldfinches. 

The  humblest  as  well  as  most  numerous  sec- 
tion of  the  family  is  that  of  the  sparrows,  of 
which,  according  to  the  authorities,  there  are 
about  forty  species  to  be  found  in  the  United 
States,  a  part  of  them  in  the  east,  and  a  part 
exclusively  in  the  west.  In  the  region  of  New 
York  about  a  dozen  species  may  be  counted, 
but  in  the  Ramble  only  about  half  that  num- 
ber. 

The  sparrows  are  conspicuously  ground-birds, 
80 


March 

from  which  they  gather  much  of  their  food,  often 
alighting  too  upon  weeds  and  bushes  in  search 
of  seeds,  but  rarely  found  in  trees  for  that  pur- 
pose, resorting  thither  chiefly  to  rest  or  sing  or  to 
escape  danger.  They  are  all  small  birds,  mostly 
from  six  to  seven  inches  long,  and  for  the  most 
part  in  the  rather  homely  garb  of  grayish-brown 
streaked  with  a  darker  shade.  This  prevailing 
color  makes  them  easily  distinguishable  from 
all  other  species,  but  difficult  of  identification 
one  from  another,  a  difficulty  that  is  increased 
by  their  great  uniformity  of  size. 

As  songsters  many  of  them  are  worthless, 
and  some  are  quite  pleasing,  but  none  of  them 
notable  (unless  it  be  the  fox  sparrow,  which  is 
quite  on  the  verge  of  greatness),  the  best  of  them 
being  characterized  by  simplicity  rather  than 
depth  and  magnificence,  and  perhaps  the  status 
of  the  finest  sparrow-vocalists  would  be  correct- 
ly defined  by  calling  them  ''ballad-singers." 
One  of  the  most  pleasing,  the  song  sparrow, 
certainly  wins  his  universal  approval  quite  as 
much  by  his  heartiness  and  enthusiasm  as  by 
his  vocal  ability. 

One  of  the  advantages  of  studying  birds  in 
spring  is  that  they  are  then  most  intensely  them- 

8i 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


selves — in  their  most  animated  mood,  and  in 
finest  plumage.  Some,  like  the  American  gold- 
finch, seem  like  quite  another  bird  in  winter, 
dressed  in  sober  brown  ;  and  where  the  change 
is  not  so  remarkable,  the  colors  are  noticeably 
dull  and  lifeless  during  the  winter  months. 
How  spiritless,  shabby,  and  almost  contempt- 
ible a  robin  looks  in  January,  skulking  among 
the  undergrowth,  as  if  conscious  and  ashamed 
of  his  unkempt  and  faded  appearance.  But 
look  at  him  in  March  !  He  is  a  new  creature, 
proud  and  self-respecting,  with  lively  eye,  quick 
and  eager  in  movement,  conspicuously  perch- 
ing high  in  the  branches,  as  if  courting  your 
gaze,  and  proud  to  show  his  bright  chestnut 
breast  and  black  head,  sleek  and  shapely — a 
typical  thrush.  Tennyson  knew  the  vernal 
change  in  the  birds  when  he  sang — 

"  In  the  Spring  a  fuller  crimson  comes  upon  the  robin's 

breast ; 
In  the  Spring  the  wanton  lapwing  gets  himself  another 

crest  ; 
In  the  Spring  a  livelier  iris  changes  on  the  burnished 

dove." 

In  twos  and  threes  the  robins  are  now  flitting 
about,  uttering  only  their  call-notes,  a  genuine 
thrush-tone,  and  reserving  their  song  till  it  is 
82 


March 


beyond  the  danger  of  interruption  by  a  relapse 
into  winter.  More  stately  and  self-conscious 
than  the  ardent  and  self-forgetful  little  song 
sparrow,  he  cannot  be  as  artless.  There  are 
several  points  of  human  contrast  between  these 
earliest  of  the  familiar  birds. 

At  about  this  time  a  somewhat  unusual  and 
in  many  respects  unattractive  specimen  came 
upon  the  scene,  known  as  the  northern  shrike, 
or  butcher-bird,  a  sort  of  miniature  vulture  in 
its  habits,  and  by  one  of  the  inexplicable  mys- 
teries of  science  classed  among  the  song-birds  ! 
It  has  the  unenviable  distinction  of  being  the 
smallest  bird  of  prey,  at  least  in  our  own  fauna, 
for  it  is  no  larger  than  a  robin.  Its  body  is  of 
an  ash  color,  the  wings  and  tail  are  black  with 
white  markings,  and  the  forehead  black  with  a 
broad  black  stripe  through  the  eye.  All  in  all 
it  has  an  ominous  look.  But  it  must  at  least 
be  said  in  its  favor  that  it  sails  under  no  false 
colors,  like  the  blue  jay.  Probably  it  knows 
that  man's  approbation  is  not  worth  the  humili- 
ation of  hypocrisy.  My  attention  was  first 
called  to  it  by  hearing  a  harsh,  uncouth  noise, 
as  unmusical  as  the  creaking  of  a  hinge,  which 
it  somewhat  resembled,  but  with  a  venomous 
touch  of  animosity.  I  never  heard  anything 

83 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


more  barbaric  from  the  throat  of  any  bird,  es- 
pecially a  "  song-bird  ;  "  and  according  to  all 
reports  this  was  a  fair  exhibition  of  its  musical 
ability. 

Its  food  consists  of  insects,  mice,  and  the 
various  small  winter-birds,  and  it  is  accustomed, 
for  some  unknown  reason,  to  impale  some  of 
its  victims  upon  thorns,  or  sharp  twigs,  al- 
though it  is  asserted  upon  very  good  evidence 
that  it  never  feeds  upon  what  it  has  thus  stored 
up.  In  these  cases  its  pleasure  in  cruelty  seems 
to  prompt  it  to  capture  the  prey  when  not 
hungry,  and,  having  no  use  for  it,  it  is  dis- 
posed of  in  this  manner.  It  is  well  that  the 
name  of  this  bird  should  be  a  lasting  memento 
of  its  infamy.  But  although  neither  gifted  nor 
handsome,  it  yet  deserves  our  thanks  for  its  one 
redeeming  feature,  viz.,  that  it  makes  havoc 
among  the  English  sparrows.  Would  that  it 
were  ten  times  larger,  so  that  it  could  obliterate 
more  of  them  ! 

Of  about  two  hundred  species  of  the  shrike 
family  in  the  world,  there  are  only  two  in  this 
country — the  northern,  which  breeds  in  north- 
ern Maine  and  beyond,  and  comes  down  into 
the  more  southern  States  in  winter,  and  the 
loggerhead  shrike,  inhabiting  chiefly  the  South- 

84 


BUTCHER-BIRD    (NORTHERN    SHRIKE) 


March 


ern  States.  It  is  rather  difficult  to  distinguish 
the  two  species. 

Such  a  bird,  if  serving  little  purpose  in  other 
respects  to  the  ornithologist,  at  least  accentuates 
the  beauty,  grace,  and  melody  of  the  other 
species. 

On  any  warm  bright  day  in  March  I  was  sure 
of  hearing  the  luscious,  bubbling  song  of  the 
European  goldfinch,  which  anticipates  by  many 
weeks  its  laggard  brother  of  the  Western  World. 
The  songs  one  hears  in  March  are  in  some  re- 
spects unrivalled  by  any  others  throughout  the 
year — apart  from  their  own  merit,  so  filled  with 
a  glow  of  promise,  like  the  delicate  touch  of 
crimson  in  the  early  dawn,  that  is  lost  in  the 
full  blaze  of  sunrise.  There  is  a  mysterious 
charm  in  hope  that  is  not  found  in  realization. 
Full  often  the  blossom  is  fairer  to  look  upon 
than  the  fruit. 

If  most  of  the  species  must  be  accused  of 
being  "fair  weather"  birds,  this  cannot  be 
predicated  of  the  chickadee ;  for  any  day,  be  it 
cold  or  warm,  in  sunshine  or  in  storm,  you 
may  hear  his  irrepressible  outbreak.  All  win- 
ter long  I  have  found  him  in  overflowing  good 
spirits,  and  never  in  gayer  mood  than  in  a  cold 
and  driving  snow-storm.  He  is  the  counterpart 

85 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


of  the  illustrious  Mark  Tapley,  for  he  "  comes 
out  strong  ' '  under  the  most  adverse  circum- 
stances, a  trait  of  which  unfortunately  he  enjoys 
almost  the  exclusive  monopoly  among  his  fel- 
lows. It  is  delightful  to  find  a  mellow  side  to 
that  notable  and  cast-iron  moralist,  Emerson, 
and  such  quick  response  to  the  charm  of  this 
dainty  creature,  interpreting  his  blithesome  mes- 
sage 

"  As  if  it  said,  '  Good  day,  good  sir  ! 
Fine  afternoon,  old  passenger  ! 
Happy  to  meet  you  in  these  places, 
Where  January  brings  few  faces  ! '  " 

His  jollity  is  absolutely  contagious.  The  man 
that  can  listen  to  his  rollicking  outburst  and 
not  smile  in  sympathy,  mark  my  words,  that 
man  is  a  villain. 

Even  for  those  who  are  unacquainted  with 
this  light-hearted  guest  of  winter  it  seems 
hardly  necessary  to  append  a  description,  for  its 
song  is  its  unfailing  badge ;  but  for  complete- 
ness I  will  add  that  it  is  about  five  inches  long, 
ashy  above,  white  beneath  (in  winter  tinted 
with  rusty  or  buff), — crown,  nape,  and  throat 
clear  black. 

By  the  middle  of  the  month  the  tide  of  mi- 
gration sets  in  a  little  more  strongly.  As  the 
86 


March 


stork  knoweth  her  appointed  time,  in  the 
words  of  the  prophet,  so  does  the  purple 
grackle,  or  crow-blackbird  ;  and,  punctual  to 
its  appointment,  it  arrived  in  the  Park  from  the 
south  on  the  i3th.  This  is  a  sort  of  refined 
crow,  about  a  foot  long,  with  glossy  black 
plumage  glistening  with  metallic  tints  of  blue, 
purple,  violet,  and  bronze. 

Walking  among  the  leafless  trees,  one  hears  a 
cracked  and  wheezy  whistle,  and,  looking  about, 
discovers,  at  the  summit  of  a  high  tree,  its  form 
sharply  outlined  against  the  sky,  this  not  alto- 
gether welcome  arrival — the  grackle.  Its  posi- 
tion tallies  with  its  disposition,  holding  itself 
aloof  in  evident  dislike  and  suspicion  of  man- 
kind,— and  mankind  warmly  reciprocates  the 
sentiment.  Its  iridescent  colors  gleam  richly  in 
the  sunlight ;  but  at  close  range  it  is  a  bit  un- 
canny, with  its  staring,  yellowish  eye.  It  is  a 
very  gregarious  bird,  often  found  in  large  flocks, 
and  has  a  varied  diet,  which  makes  it  somewhat 
beneficial,  but  still  more  injurious,  to  husbandry, 
and  it  has  the  crow's  disreputable  habit  of  feed- 
ing upon  the  eggs  and  young  of  other  birds. 

As  a  songster  (for  scientifically  it  is  one  of  the 
song-birds)  it  is  a  most  dismal  failure.  All  the 
ills  that  ever  attacked  a  singer's  larynx  seem  con- 

8? 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


centrated  in  its  throat ;  yet,  like  many  another 
supposititious  and  execrable  vocalist,  it  persists  in 
trying  to  sing.  When  a  large  number  of  them 
lift  up  their  voices  together  it  certainly  makes 
what  someone  has  aptly  called  a  good  wheel- 
barrow chorus.  Wherever  they  appear  they 
show  themselves  vulgarly  at  home  until  they 
leave  in  the  fall.  Considering  what  an  un- 
mitigated nuisance  they  have  become  by  their 
injury  to  the  crops  and  to  the  life  of  other 
birds,  and  with  no  other  gift  than  handsome 
plumage  to  commend  them,  it  seems  impossible 
to  speak  a  kinder  word  for  the  grackles  than  to 
say  that,  like  the  butcher-bird,  they  are  chiefly 
instructive  as  showing  what  a  bird  ought  not 
to  be.  And  yet  even  a  grackle  can  somewhat 
quicken  the  pulse  in  March. 


No  sooner  does  the  snow  disappear  from  a 
sunny  and  sheltered  spot  than  a  flush  of  green 
overspreads  it,  and  the  typical  colors  of  winter 
and  summer  are  now  alternating,  over  all  the 
fields  and  woods,  in  picturesque  patchwork. 
Snow-birds  are  becoming  numerous,  and  on  the 
morning  of  the  i6th  appeared  the  first  true  mi- 


March 

grant  of  the  season — a  flock  of  fox  sparrows, 
having  evidently  arrived  during  the  preceding 
night.  This  is  the  largest  and  handsomest  of  all 
the  sparrows,  and  distinctly  different  in  plu- 
mage, which  is  a  rich,  rusty-red  above,  and  white 
beneath  streaked  with  reddish.  Being  about  sev- 
en inches  long,  to  the  casual  observer  they  are 
not  unlike  a  diminutive  wood  thrush,  although 
their  figure  is  not  that  of  a  thrush.  On  the  first 
day  after  arrival,  perhaps  being  especially  hun- 
gry, they  were  searching  with  unusual  vigor  for 
food  among  the  dead  leaves,  and  were  less  shy 
than  usual  at  one's  approach.  It  is  quite  notice- 
able that  in  spring  birds  are  much  more  ap- 
proachable than  at  any  other  time. 

The  fox  sparrow  has  a  peculiar  method  of 
scratching  the  ground,  not  like  a  hen,  with  one 
foot  at  a  time,  but  somehow  with  both  at  once, 
in  a  little  spasm.  The  same  trait,  in  less  degree, 
is  observable  in  the  white-throats  and  probably 
in  other  ground-birds.  But  however  absorbed 
in  its  occupation,  it  is  keenly  alert  at  the  ap- 
proach of  danger,  and  flies  at  once  to  a  neigh- 
boring tree  or  bush,  as  if  to  have  full  view  of 
the  situation.  Not  the  least  important  of  its 
prepossessing  features  is  its  conspicuous  good- 
nature, a  hail-fellow,  well  met,  fraternizing  at  once 

89 


•  The  Birds'  Calendar 


with  chickadees,  snow-birds,  white-throats,  and 
any  others  of  peaceable  disposition. 

Two  days  after  arrival  it  began  singing,  not 
with  the  long  preliminary  skirmishings  of  twit- 
terings and  half-voiced  effects  so  common,  but 
lusty  and  clear.  Its  musical  ability  was  a  glad 
surprise,  although  I  have  heard  it  so  highly 
commended,  far  surpassing  all  other  sparrows  in 
fine  modulation  and  a  peculiarly  full,  luscious, 
and  flute-like  quality  of  tone,  tinged  with  a  de- 
licious plaintiveness.  The  song  of  the  fox  spar- 
row is  more  like  a  wild  spring  flower  than  any- 
thing one  has  heard  thus  far  in  the  year.  If  its 
notes  should  fall  to  the  ground  and  take  root, 
they  would  certainly  spring  up  as  hepaticas  or 
something  of  the  sort.  These  little  creatures 
win  admiration  too  by  singing  in  all  weathers ; 
and  throughout  the  year  one  will  seldom  hear 
more  spontaneous,  rich,  and  delicate  strains  than 
those  that  come  from  this  passing  visitor,  amid 
the  leafless  trees  and  under  the  gloomy  clouds 
of  March. 

During  the  remaining  days  of  the  month  rob- 
ins became  quite  abundant,  but  I  did  not  hear 
their  song  till  the  26th.  By  that  time  the  snow- 
bird, a  soft-voiced  little  specimen,  was  indulg- 
ing in  a  variety  of  fine  twitters  as  it  busily  moved 
90 


March 


about  over  the  ground,  and  in  a  louder  but 
simple  and  pleasing  strain  when  perching  on  a 
branch.  Actual  contact  with  the  earth  seems 
to  make  it  impossible  for  a  bird  to  sing.  Its 
heart  is  in  an  upper  realm  when  in  song,  although 
the  lowest  edge  of  that  realm  may  be  a  twig  not 
a  foot  distant  from  the  ground. 

Late  in  the  month,  outside  the  Park,  was 
found  a  flock  of  those  handsome,  but  villainous 
birds,  the  blue  jays.  Their  blue  wings  gleam- 
ing among  the  trees  suggested  a  heavenly  tem- 
per ,  but  they  were  transformed  quickly  enough 
into  spirits  of  evil  by  the  malignant  yell  with 
which  they  disappeared. 

Near  the  jays  in  the  adjoining  swamps  were 
the  earliest  red-winged  blackbirds.  One  need 
never  look  for  these  in  the  Park,  for  their  resort 
is  the  marsh,  or  low  and  wet  open  fields.  This 
is  a  rather  fine-looking  bird,  the  male  being 
about  as  large  as  a  robin,  and  lustrous  black, 
with  the  shoulder  bright  scarlet. 

Although  these  birds  are  sometimes  very  in- 
jurious to  crops,  they  partially  atone  for  the 
fault  by  being  also  insectivorous,  and  are  inno- 
cent of  the  murderous  disposition  of  the  blue  jay. 
The  great  ornithologist,  Wilson,  championed 
their  cause  by  estimating  that  in  his  day  they 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


devoured  during  their  four  months'  stay  in  the 
United  States  16,200,000,000  noxious  insects  ! 

I  quote  from  the  same  writer  the  following 
brief  and  interesting  account  of  their  winter  life 
in  the  Southern  States.  "  Sometimes  they  ap- 
peared driving  about  like  an  enormous  black 
cloud  carried  before  the  wind,  varying  its  shape 
every  moment.  Sometimes  suddenly  rising 
from  the  fields  around  me  with  a  noise  like 
thunder;  while  the  glittering  of  innumerable 
wings  of  the  brightest  vermilion,  amid  the  black 
cloud  they  formed,  produced  on  these  occasions 
a  very  striking  and  splendid  effect.  Then  de- 
scending like  a  torrent,  and  covering  the  branch- 
es of  some  detached  grove,  or  clump  of  trees, 
the  whole  congregated  multitude  commenced 
one  general  concert  or  chorus,  that  I  have 
plainly  distinguished  at  the  distance  of  more 
than  two  miles,  and  when  listened  to  at  the  in- 
termediate space  of  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  with  a 
slight  breeze  of  wind  to  swell  and  soften  the 
flow  of  its  cadences,  was  to  me  grand  and  even 
sublime.  The  whole  season  of  winter,  that  with 
most  birds  is  passed  in  struggling  to  sustain  life 
in  silent  melancholy,  is  with  the  red-wings  one 
continued  carnival." 

As  a  singer  the  red-winged  blackbird  has 
92 


March 


little  worth,  and  yet  there  is  something  very 
musical  in  the  simple  ' '  conk-a-ree ' '  oft  re- 
peated, as  the  bird  perches  prominently  on  a 
bush  in  the  swamp,  or  beside  a  stream  in  the 
pasture. 

At  the  close  of  the  month  various  parts  of  the 
Park  were  fairly  alive  with  fox  sparrows,  song 
sparrows,  robins,  snow-birds,  and  white-throats, 
all  in  song  except  the  last.  The  fiery  cardinal, 
with  an  air  of  exclusiveness,  gleams  here  and 
there  through  the  branches ;  and  the  frequent 
note  of  the  golden-winged  woodpecker,  nut- 
hatch, chickadee,  and  goldfinch  is  heard. 

Now  too  came  the  phcebe,  the  earliest  repre- 
sentative of  another  family — the  flycatchers — 
a  group  quite  distinctive  in  plumage  and  habits. 
Perhaps  no  other  family  gives  the  field  ornithol- 
ogist quite  so  much  trouble  as  this,  in  the  re- 
semblance of  many  of  its  species,  as  the  colors 
are  mostly  neutral  (of  an  olive  tint,  and  white 
that  is  more  or  less  pure),  and  most  of  the  species 
differ  but  little  in  size.  They  are  aptly  called 
flycatchers,  not  only  as  being  chiefly  (but  not 
exclusively)  insectivorous,  but  from  their  con- 
spicuous habit  of  catching  their  prey  on  the 
wing,  all  having  the  characteristic  of  perching 

93 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


on  a  prominent  point  of  a  bush  or  tree,  from 
which  they  suddenly  dart  forth  and  snap  up  an 
insect  (sometimes  several  in  succession)  that  is 
in  the  air,  and,  after  more  or  less  manoeuvring 
on  the  wing,  returning  to  their  post  of  observa- 
tion to  wait  for  the  next  morsel  that  comes 
in  sight.  Many  other  birds,  like  vireos  and 
warblers,  can  be  seen  at  times  collecting  their 
food  in  the  same  manner. 

Tropical  America,  where  insect-life  is  most 
abundant,  is  the  home  of  nearly  all  the  species 
of  flycatchers.  Out  of  nearly  three  hundred 
clearly  denned  varieties  in  the  New  World,  only 
thirty  are  to  be  found  in  North  America,  and 
most  of  these  the  least  attractive  as  regards 
plumage.  Mexico,  Central  America,  and  Brazil 
show  many  beautiful  species,  fork-tailed,  black 
and  white,  yellow  and  crimson,  rivalling  the 
warblers  in  their  brilliant  attire ;  and  in  their 
graceful  manoeuvrings  in  pursuit  of  their  help- 
less prey,  they  are  the  very  daintiest  combina- 
tion of  poetry  and  murder  imaginable. 

The  phcebe,  though  comparatively  small 
(about  sevfen  inches  long),  is  quite  a  conspicuous 
object,  from  its  prominent  position  at  the  tip- 
end  of  a  leafless  branch,  and  is  most  likely  to 
be  found  in  the  vicinity  of  water,  where  even 

94 


March 


thus  early  in  the  year  insects  are  beginning  to 
fly  about. 

Science  has  placed  the  flycatchers  outside 
the  charmed  circle  of  song-birds,  and  yet  many 
of  their  notes  are  distinctly  musical.  Science 
and  sentiment  do  not  always  agree  as  to  what 
really  constitutes  a  song-bird.  When  there  is 
any  wrangling  between  these  two  eminent 
authorities  upon  that  point,  I  find  that  I  get 
less  truth  but  a  deal  more  of  satisfaction  by 
taking  sides  with  sentiment. 


Life  is  stirring  everywhere,  above  and  below 
ground.  Along  the  water  -  courses  liliaceous 
plants  are  sprouting,  and  the  simplocarpus  fceti- 
dus — more  euphonious  than  the  English  of  it 
— has  protruded  its  coarse  blossom  from  the 
earth.  This  is  the  earliest  of  the  rank  vegeta- 
tion, as  if  Nature,  obliged  to  produce  the  mal- 
odorous object,  were  minded  to  do  it  quickly 
and  have  it  done. 

And  now,  released  from  its  narrow  winter- 
quarters, 

"  The  swan,  with  arched  neck 
Between  her  white  wings  mantling  proudly,  rows 
Her  state  with  oary  feet ;  " 

95 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


— statuesque  and  beautiful,  and  indispensable 
to  lake  scenery,  but  cold  and  conventional,  and 
suffering  greatly,  like  the  peacock,  by  the  in- 
vention of  cheap  prints. 

My  record  for  March  comprises  the  follow- 
ing species,  all  but  three  of  them  in  the 
Ramble  :  chickadee,  nuthatch,  cardinal,  rob- 
in, gull,  crow,  shrike,  white-throat,  flicker, 
downy  wood-pecker,  American  and  European 
goldfinches,  snow-bird,  grackle,  blue  jay,  red- 
winged  blackbird,  song  sparrow,  fox  sparrow, 
crossbill,  and  phoebe.  Those  who  delay  their 
gloved  acquaintance  with  Nature  until  May, 
are  quite  oblivious  that  she  is  already  so  wake- 
ful in  this  desolate  and  repellent  month,  and 
giving  so  excellent  a  foretaste  of  the  fuller  tide 
of  life  to  follow. 


April 


1  Gloomy  winter's  now  awa', 
Saft  the  westlin  breezes  blaw ; 
'Mang  the  birks  o'  Stanley-shaw 
The  mavis  sings  fu'  cheer ie  0." 

Tannalnll. 


APRIL 

|HE   mavis   of  the   poet   is   not    an 
American  bird,  but  the  vernal  glad- 
ness   overspreads    the    world,    and 
each  country  has  its  own  peculiar 
songsters  to  give  a  welcome  to  the 

"  Sweet  daughter  of  a  rough  and  stormy  sire, 
Hoar  Winter's  blooming  child,  delightful  Spring  !  " 

By  the  force  of  habit  and  the  influence  of 
names,  the  appearance  of  spring  in  March, 
however  genuine,  always  seems  preliminary, 
and  not  till  April  do  we  feel  ourselves  fully 
launched  upon  the  new  course  of  things. 

The  month  was  ushered  in  with  the  first  full 
song  of  the  white-throated  sparrows,  for  which  I 
have  been  impatiently  waiting  ;  and  so  gener- 
ally throughout  the  Park  did  their  strain  fall 
upon  my  ear,  that  it  was  evidently  the  result  of 
clever  prearrangement. 

It  is  quite  aptly  called  "  peabody  bird,"  as 
the  main  part  of  its  song  has  a  striking  resem- 

99 


•  The  Birds'  Calendar 


blance  to  the  reiterated  sound  of  peabody, 
peabody,  peabody,  with  the  accent  on  the  first 
syllable,  and  commonly  a  downward  inflection 
on  the  following  syllables.  This  peculiarity, 
and  a  genuine  whistling  quality  of  tone,  unlike 
that  of  any  other  species,  are  sufficient  to  iden- 
tify the  bird,  even  if  one  had  never  heard  the 
song  before.  Without  the  depth  of  sentiment 
and  rich  volume  of  sound  that  distinguish  the 
fox  sparrow,  it  is  quite  characteristic  and  cheery. 
Nor  is  it  less  pleasing  because  of  the  creature's 
evident  reluctance  to  have  spectators  at  the  per- 
formance ;  for  it  precipitately  retires  from  the 
scene  when  it  sees  any  one  approaching ;  but 
if  you  linger  in  the  vicinity  unobserved,  you 
may  often  enjoy  quite  a  protracted  recital.  In 
this  respect  how  different  from  the  song  spar- 
row, which  can  always  be  relied  upon  to  take  a 
most  conspicuous  position  on  a  bush  or  tree, 
as  if  singing  to  all  the  world ;  and  yet  so  art- 
less withal,  as  rather  to  enhance  the  effect. 

As  the  season  advances  the  colors  of  the 
white  -  throated  sparrow  brighten  perceptibly, 
and  many  of  the  specimens  become  quite  attrac- 
tive before  they  leave  for  their  summer  home. 
The  disappearance  of  a  bird's  bright  colors  in 
autumn  seems  to  be  nature's  safeguard.  The 


April 

goldfinch  would  be  a  "  shining  mark  "  for  its 
enemies  in  the  leafless  publicity  of  a  winter 
landscape,  were  it  not  for  the  substitution  of  a 
quiet  suit  of  brown  for  its  brilliant  summer 
dress. 

April  is  the  first  great  harvest  month  for  the 
ornithologist.  The  winter  species  are  still 
loath  to  leave,  and  the  summer  residents  and 
migrants  are  coming  in  considerable  numbers. 
The  golden-winged  woodpeckers  are  becoming 
quite  numerous,  and  during  the  first  week  the 
golden-crowned  kinglets,  which  seemed  to  be 
entirely  absent  for  several  weeks,  returned  in 
great  force,  having  probably  been  driven  south- 
ward by  the  intense  cold.  The  brown  creeper, 
which  seems  at  first  to  have  no  affiliations 
among  its  kind,  and  to  do  business  entirely  on 
its  own  account,  but  which  I  have  commonly 
found  to  be  within  hailing  distance  of  kinglets 
or  chickadees,  also  left  this  region  just  as  sud- 
denly as  the  gold-crests  about  the  middle  of 
January,  and  reappeared  the  very  same  day  in 
April,  and  almost  within  stone's  throw,  which 
indicates  that,  although  they  are  not  garrulous 
friends,  there  is  a  very  tacit  understanding  be- 
tween them. 

Amid  the  singing  (or  attempts  to  sing)    of 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


all  the  other  birds,  I  heard  a  very  musical  twit- 
ter from  a  nuthatch,  quite  contrary  to  his 
custom,  and  apparently  prompted  by  the  desire 
to  be  in  fashion.  Among  all  the  woodland 
choir  the  phcebe  alone,  for  good  and  sufficient 
reason,  as  yet  remains  as  dumb  as  an  oyster. 

A  few  days  after  the  return  of  the  "gold- 
crest  ' '  I  discovered  a  species  of  kinglet  that 
I  had  never  seen  before — the  ruby-crowned, 
somewhat  more  rare,  and,  as  it  seemed  to  me, 
though  perhaps  from  the  circumstance  of  nov- 
elty, more  beautiful  than  even  the  "  gold-crest." 
The  two  kinglets  are  of  the  same  size  (about 
four  inches  long),  and  the  smallest  of  all  our 
birds  except  the  humming-bird.  With  the 
same  general  coloring  as  the  other,  the  ruby- 
crowned  has  a  suffusion  of  yellow,  and,  instead 
of  the  black  and  yellow  markings  on  the  head, 
the  male  has  a  deep  red  flame  on  the  crown. 
But  the  specification  of  its  coloring  does  not 
touch  the  core  of  its  daintiness  as  shown  in 
figure  and  motion.  The  habits  of  the  two  are 
the  same,  and  under  the  circumstance  of  its 
not  being  very  much  rarer  than  the  "  gold- 
crest "  it  is  a  singular  fact  that  perhaps  in  not 
more  than  three  or  four  instances  has  its  nest 
ever  been  discovered. 


GOLDEN-CROWNED    KINGLETS 


April 

My  attention  was  first  called  to  the  bird  by 
hearing  a  remarkably  clear  and  unfamiliar  song 
at  a  distance,  and  I  started  inevitably  to  dis- 
cover its  origin.  The  characteristic  part  of  the 
song  is  a  triplet  of  tones  represented  by  the 
first,  third,  and  fifth  of  the  scale  (these  inter- 
vals being  remarkably  precise),  uttered  in  rapid 
succession  and  repeated  three  or  four  times. 
The  introduction  of  the  song  is  an  indescribable 
and  intricate  modulation,  but  the  triplet  was 
never  absent,  and  indeed  was  sometimes  given 
without  the  introduction.  It  seems  almost  in- 
credible that  so  full  and  resonant  a  tone  can 
issue  from  so  tiny  a  throat.  For  a  few  days 
this  was  the  finest  songster  in  the  Park,  rival- 
ling the  white-throated  and  the  fox  sparrows  in 
its  delicious  clearness;  but  the  bird  made  only 
a  flying  visit,  and  was  soon  gone.  Its  greater 
rarity,  as  compared  with  the  "gold-crest,"  is 
largely  due  to  the  fact  that,  whereas  the  latter  is 
a  winter  resident,  the  former  spends  the  winter 
farther  south,  and  is  seldom  to  be  seen  except 
in  its  semi-annual  transit. 

I  have  also  heard  from  the  "gold-crest" 

what  was  more  than  a  twitter,  but  less  than  a 

song ;  but  either  it  does  not  awake   to  the  full 

sense  of  its  musical  responsibility  so  early  in  the 

103 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


year  as  the  ruby-crowned,  or  else  it  is  far  less 
gifted. 

Related  to  the  kinglets,  but  a  much  rarer 
species,  is  the  beautiful  and  irrepressible  little 
blue-gray  gnat-catcher  (found  on  one  occasion 
in  the  Ramble),  only  four  and  a  half  inches 
long,  in  quiet  tones  of  grayish-blue  above,  and 
white  beneath,  of  delicate  mould,  and  in  many 
ways  suggestive  of  a  tiny  mocking-bird.  Any 
one  can  imagine  the  turbulence,  not  to  say 
agony,  of  a  bird  which,  like  this  gnat-catcher, 
has  a  body  that  is  evidently  several  sizes  too 
small  for  its  soul,  necessitating  a  constant  escape 
of  delirious  song  and  motion.  The  discov- 
ery threw  me  into  quite  a  flutter,  as  it  was  my 
first  and  long-anticipated  view  of  the  elegant 
creature.  He  entertained  me  for  nearly  half  an 
hour  in  a  most  confidential  manner  with  his  con- 
tinuous warble,  graceful  posturings,  and  airy 
flights,  diving  hither  and  thither  for  insects  on 
the  wing  in  the  manner  of  a  true  flycatcher. 
The  song  is  characterized  by  impetuosity  rath- 
er than  sweetness,  as  it  is  mostly  a  subdued 
reminiscence  of  the  catbird's  heterogeneous 
vagaries. 

About  this  time  I  found  a  mysterious  stranger 
on  three  different  occasions,  always  by  itself : 
104 


April 

its  plumage  black,  but  apparently  not  iridescent, 
smaller  than  the  crow-blackbird,  and  yet  not 
likely  to  be  the  rusty  grackle,  whose  plumage 
at  this  season  would  hardly  be  a  uniform  black. 
The  tone  was  more  musical  than  the  grackle's, 
and  yet  had  a  suggestion  of  it.  The  probability 
seems  to  be  that  it  was  one  of  the  imported 
starlings  that  have  been  turned  loose,  and  had 
perhaps  lost  track  of  its  fellows.  I  almost  wish 
I  had  not  seen  it,  if  it  is  not  to  show  itself 
again  ;  for  it  is  a  most  exasperating  pleasure  to 
find  an  unidentifiable  specimen. 

I  note  the  arrival  of  that  humblest  and  most 
familiar  of  all  sparrows, — the  ubiquitous  "  chip- 
per." It  certainly  cannot  be  called  a  singer, 
and  its  familiar  note  is  commonly  too  strident 
to  be  very  musical ;  but  it  is  a  harmless  drop  of 
sound,  even  among  the  vocalists  of  June,  and 
pleasantly  fills  a  niche  in  the  empty  spaces  of 
July  and  August.  In  appearance  it  is  always 
refreshingly  neat,  not  to  say  spruce,  and  unpre- 
tentious; and  by  being  neither  over- timid  nor 
bold,  it  always  holds  itself  at  an  interesting  dis- 
tance. This  is  said  to  be  the  only  one  of  the 
sparrows  that  sometimes  builds  its  nest  in  trees, 
all  the  other  species  (except,  perhaps,  the  tree 
sparrow)  on  the  ground  or  in  bushes.  From 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


its  nest  being  commonly  lined  with  horsehair  it 
gets  the  name  of  "  hair-bird." 

Almost  a  fac-simile,  enlarged,  of  the  chipping 
sparrow,  with  a  bright  chestnut  crown,  and  aptly 
called  the  "arctic  chipper,"  from  its  breed- 
ing only  in  arctic  regions,  is  a  bird  more  com- 
monly known  as  the  tree  sparrow,  but  with  lit- 
tle propriety  in  the  prefix,  as  it  is  oftener  found 
on  the  ground  than  elsewhere,  and  does  not 
commonly  nest  in  trees.  It  is  a  denizen  of  our 
woods  in  winter,  although  I  have  seen  it  in  the 
Ramble  only  during  migration.  It  was  then 
almost  silent,  but  in  its  summer  haunts  it  is  said 
to  be  a  very  pleasing  singer.  In  the  case  of 
species  so  nearly  identical  as  the  common  and 
the  Arctic  chippers,  it  would  be  very  interest- 
ing to  know  wherein  consists  that  subtle  tem- 
peramental distinction  that  drives  them  to  such 
diverse  latitudes. 

* 

One  of  the  largest  and  most  important  groups 
of  birds  in  this  country  is  the  one  known  as  the 
"warblers."  Especially  graceful  in  form  and 
motion,  with  brilliant  plumage,  pleasing  if  not 
remarkable  songsters,  and  in  their  habits  thor- 
oughly beneficial  to  vegetation,  the  warblers 
deservedly  rank  high  in  the  estimation  of  bird- 
106 


April 

lovers.  The  anatomical  characteristics  which 
determine  the  family  relationship  of  this  group 
could  not  be  detected  at  a  distance  of  five  feet, 
and  yet  there  are  other  and  more  palpable  re- 
semblances which  would  lead  even  a  casual  ob- 
server to  associate  them  together. 

The  distinctive  points  of  this  family,  as  viewed 
by  the  field  ornithologist,  can  be  best  presented 
and  remembered  by  a  brief  comparison  of 
warblers  and  finches,  which  are  the  two  largest 
families  in  America. 

Warblers  are  uniformly  small — from  four  to 
six  and  a  half  inches  in  length ;  finches  are  not 
so  uniform  in  size,  but  average  larger,  varying 
from  five  to  nine  inches  in  length.  In  general 
the  finches  are  rather  plainly  colored  (a  rule 
that  has  several  notable  exceptions),  while  the 
warblers,  as  a  class,  are  strikingly  beautiful. 
Any  feathery  bit  of  black,  white,  blue,  and  gold 
flashing  among  the  branches  is  likely  to  be  a 
warbler,  for  there  are  few  other  specimens  so 
minute  and  beautiful. 

Some  of  the  finches — for  example,  several  of 
the  sparrows — have  no  merit  as  songsters,  but 
very  many  of  them  are  quite  musical,  and  some 
are  famous,  so  that  as  a  family  they  are  superior 
vocalists.  The  warblers  are  inferior  in  this  re- 
107 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


spect,  and  the  name  of  "  warbler,"  as  desig- 
nating a  conspicuous  trait  of  the  family,  is  a 
misnomer.  In  many  of  the  species  the  ' '  song ' ' 
is  little  more  than  the  rapid  reiteration  of  a 
single  note ;  in  others  there  is  some  degree  of 
modulation  and  accent  (as  in  the  black-throated 
greens),  which  is  very  pleasing  and  vivacious, 
and  more  fitly  called  a  melody ;  but  none  of 
them  give  a  suggestion  of  such  warbling  as  one 
hears  from  the  purple  finch,  the  goldfinch,  the 
rose-breasted  grosbeak,  or  the  fox  sparrow ;  and 
I  am  quite  unable  to  understand  the  extravagant 
language  some  writers  use  in  commendation  of 
the  musical  qualities  of  these  birds,  which  in 
other  respects  are  unsurpassed  by  any  other  spe- 
cies. The  finches  are  the  more  musical ;  war- 
blers more  graceful  in  movement,  and  more 
charming  in  form  and  plumage. 

In  temperament  finches  are  more  phlegmatic, 
warblers  more  nervous.  There  is  an  eternal 
restlessness  about  a  warbler,  in  marked  contrast 
to  the  comparatively  ' '  low-pressure  ' '  organism 
of  a  finch.  The  salient  traits  of  the  finch  re- 
mind one  of  the  German  nationality,  while  the 
' '  warblers ' '  are  doubtless  of  avian-French  de- 
seen  t. 

The  finches  are  chiefly  granivorous  (vege- 
108 


April 

tarian),  the  warblers  chiefly  insectivorous.  For 
this  reason  finches  are  not  so  migratory  as  war- 
blers, whose  resources  of  food  are  almost  en- 
tirely swept  away  by  cold  weather,  so  that  there 
is  only  one  warbler  (the  yellow -rump)  that  can  be 
found  in  the  Northern  States  during  the  winter. 

The  scientific  designation  of  the  warblers  as 
sylvicolida  (living  in  the  woods),  although  not 
profoundly  descriptive,  is  not  misleading,  and 
points  to  an  evident  characteristic  of  the  class. 
They  are  more  retiring  than  many  other  species, 
and  are  found  in  woods  and  groves  rather  than 
by  the  wayside  or  in  the  open  pasture. 

In  this  region  the  finch  and  warbler  families 
are  equally  represented  by  about  forty  species  in 
each.  Throughout  North  America  there  are 
twice  as  many  finches  as  warblers,  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty-three  to  sixty- two,  and  in  the 
world  five  hundred  species  of  finches  (the  largest 
of  all  families),  and  upward  of  one  hundred 
species  of  warblers. 

These  points  of  comparison  touch  upon  the 
most  important  aspects  in  the  life-history  of  the 
two  families.  . 

The  first  week  in  the  month  brought  the  first 
warbler  of  the  season,  viz.:   the  pine-creeper, 
109 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


which  is  usually  the  forerunner  of  the  family. 
It  is  about  six  inches  long  :  olive  above,  throat 
and  breast  bright  yellow,  passing  into  white 
beneath,  and  two  white  wing-bars — chiefly  a 
denizen  of  pine  woods ;  and  whoever  has  found 
it  in  its  summer  resorts  will  thereafter  always 
associate  its  simple,  sweet,  and  drowsy  song  with 
the  smell  of  pines  in  a  sultry  day.  It  often 
runs  along  the  branches,  an  unusual  occur- 
rence for  any  bird,  and  especially  for  warblers, 
whose  nervous  temperament  commonly  puts 
them  on  the  wing,  as  the  most  congenial 
method  of  locomotion.  Like  the  nuthatch  the 
pine-creeper  often  clings  to  the  tree-trunk.  It 
is  probably  only  seen  as  a  migrant  in  this  re- 
gion, which  is  true  of  about  half  of  the  war- 
blers, their  summer  home  being  in  northern 
New  England  and  beyond. 

The  reader  of  any  ornithological  literature 
that  is  not  technically  scientific,  will  observe 
the  alternating  occurrence  of  "  he  "  and  "it," 
"who  "  and  "which,"  in  speaking  of  a  bird. 
This  results  from  the  writer's  effort  to  satisfy 
the  demands  of  sentiment  on  the  one  side,  and 
of  grammar  on  the  other.  For  it  is  very  dis- 
tasteful to  any  bird-lover  to  degrade  his  friends 
to  the  impersonality  of  the  neuter  gender,  and 


April 

when  speaking  of  a  favorite  species  he  boldly 
ignores  grammatical  rules.  He  is  thus  con- 
stantly "in  a  strait  betwixt  two,"  reminding 
me  of  a  good  Catholic  friend  with  whom  I 
once  boarded,  who  compromised  the  claims  of 
conscience  imposed  by  his  religious  belief  and 
the  requirements  of  hospitality  by  providing 
meat  dinners  on  alternate  Fridays  ! 

In  company,  as  usual,  with  the  pine-creeper, 
came  another  and  more  interesting  warbler,  the 
"  red-poll,"  so  called  from  a  very  pretty  chest- 
nut-red spot  on  the  top  of  the  head.  It  is  also 
entirely  yellow  beneath.  But  the  readiest  mark 
of  distinction  from  almost  all  other  birds  is  its 
habit  of  constantly  flirting  the  tail,  like  the 
phoebe.  This  is  an  infallible  test  of  a  red-poll. 
Like  the  flycatcher,  too,  they  often  dart  into 
the  air  for  insects.  What  the  red-poll  may  be 
as  a  songster  when  it  gets  to  Canada,  I  do  not 
know  ;  for  the  present  it  has  only  a  single  note 
of  luscious  quality,  which  is  several  times  re- 
peated. Altogether  it  is  a  very  attractive  little 
creature,  with  its  bright  colors  and  vivacious 
ways,  and  I  am  only  sorry  that  New  York  is 
not  cool  enough  to  induce  it  to  remain  and 
settle  down  for  the  summer. 

Close  upon  the  heels  of  these  warblers — or 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


what  would  be  their  heels  if  they  had  been  so 
provided — comes  a  migrant  woodpecker,  the 
yellow-bellied — black,  white,  and  brown  above, 
yellowish  beneath,  with  a  crimson  patch  on  the 
crown.  The  easiest  standard  of  measure  for 
moderate-sized  birds  is  the  robin,  which  is 
familiar  to  everyone ;  so  I  shall  do  better  to 
say  that  this  new-comer  is  a  little  smaller  than  a 
robin,  which  gives  a  more  accurate  idea  than 
to  say  it  is  eight  and  a  half  inches  long.  It  is 
interesting  to  watch  him  as  he  clings  for  a  long 
time  to  one  spot  on  a  tree,  boring  deep  holes, 
though  it  is  not  quite  certain  what  he  is  after. 
Sometimes  too  he  will  strip  off  large  pieces  of 
bark  from  the  trees,  it  is  said,  for  the  purpose 
of  feeding  on  the  inner  bark.  Nuthatches  are 
a  sort  of  superficial  woodpeckers,  extracting 
only  the  insects  and  larvae  that  find  lodgement 
in  the  cracks  of  the  bark. 

At  this  time  I  heard  an  incipient  song  from 
the  crossbills,  both  while  they  were  occupied  in 
the  evergreens,  and  on  the  wing ;  having  a 
delicious  quality  in  the  tone,  the  promise  of 
fine  effects  in  the  song-season. 

But  the  most  important  event  of  this  same 
day,  and  indeed  of  the  month,  was  the  dis- 
covery of  the  hermit  thrush,  not  for  its  rarity, 


April 

but  as  a  noble  member  of  a  most  distin- 
guished family.  This  is  a  text  on  which  every 
bird-lover  delights  to  discourse,  for  the  thrush 
among  the  birds  is  like  the  rose  among  the  flow- 
ers— a  masterpiece  of  its  kind.  In  organiza- 
tion and  vocal  gifts  it  has  a  conceded  pre-emi- 
nence, and  the  three  species  (wood,  Wilson,  and 
hermit)  are  the  prima-donnas  of  the  forest. 
The  hermit  is  only  a  migrant,  and  is  commonly 
silent  till  he  reaches  home  in  northern  New 
England  and  Canada ;  but  in  full  song  his 
voice  is  rich  and  sonorous ;  and  a  softer  tone, 
which  I  heard  soon  after  his  arrival,  was  like 
the  finest  thread  of  pure  gold. 

The  plumage  of  this  species  is  called  in  the 
books  an  olive-brown,  but  it  has  an  indescrib- 
able softness  of  tone,  and  a  quiet  elegance  that 
makes  the  "  belle  of  the  winter  "  (the  cardinal), 
look  simply  gaudy,  while  in  form  and  move- 
ment the  bird  betrays  a  subtle  and  unconscious 
evidence  of  high-breeding,  and  that  natural 
touch  of  exclusiveness  which  any  such  creature 
must  inevitably  have ;  like  the  delicate  but  im- 
penetrable atmosphere  surrounding  every  finely 
grained  individual.  This  is  attributing  a  good 
deal  to  the  hermit  thrush,  but  the  testimony  of 
those  who  have  felt  the  influence  of  this  mysti- 

"3 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


cal  reserve  is  of  more  authority  than  the  opinion 
of  those  who  have  not. 

The  delight  caused  by  the  return  of  many  a 
bird  in  spring  is  in  large  measure  due  to  the 
associated  scenes  of  other  times  that  are  recalled 
by  its  appearance.  Everyone  in  the  country 
who  has  wandered  through  the  woods  at  the 
twilight  hour,  listening  to  the  choristers  that 
sing  their  varied  farewell  to  the  day  and  drop 
off  one  by  one  into  silence,  feels  the  force  of 
the  poet's  lines : 

"  Each  bird  gives  o'er  its  note,  the  thrush  alone 
Fills  the  cool  grove  when  all  the  rest  are  gone." 

It  may  well  have  been  some  noble  song  like 
the  robin's  cheerful  warble,  or  the  more  glorious 
chant  of  the  wood  thrush,  heard  among  the 
branches  in  the  cool  of  the  day,  that  inspired 
the  poetic  utterance  of  the  Psalmist,  so  sensitive 
to  every  natural  beauty — "  Thou  makest  the 
outgoings  of  the  morning  and  evening  to  re- 
joice." (For  "  rejoice  "  the  marginal  reading 
is  "sing,"  which  gives  color  to  the  foregoing 
ornithological  exegesis.) 

i 

A  change  has  come  over  the  spirit    of  the 
phcebe,  which  for  the  past  few  days  has  been 
114 


April 

stationed  like  a  black-capped  sentinel  on  the 
point  of  a  branch  overhanging  the  water. 
For  a  week  after  its  arrival  it  sat  silent,  soli- 
tary, and  evidently  dejected  ;  but  this  morning 
it  is  all  animation,  and  cheerily  calling  its 
own  name  or  that  of  its  mate  as  it  flies  hither 
and  thither.  A  case  of  human  nature  in  bird- 
form.  When  the  migration-time  comes  it  is 
usual  in  this  as  in  most  of  the  other  species 
for  the  male  to  arrive  first,  his  gentle  consort, 
proverbially  tardy,  putting  in  her  appearance 
several  days  later.  It  is  hard  to  imagine  why 
they  cannot  agree  to  take  the  journey  together, 
as  the  matrimonial  compact  does  not  expire 
by  limitation  with  the  phcebe,  as  it  does  with 
many  others,  to  be  renewed  annually.  That 
it  is  not  the  result  of  a  ''tiff"  just  before 
starting  seems  proved  by  the  delight  expressed 
at  the  reunion.  We  seem  forced  to  the  con- 
clusion that  this  conduct  results  from  one  of 
the  inscrutable  eccentricities  of  the  feminine 
intellect.  And  it  is  not  a  little  singular  that 
a  trait  in  one  of  the  sexes  of  constitutional  un- 
preparedness  to  start  on  time  should  be  so  prev- 
alent throughout  the  animal  kingdom. 

That  the  volume  of  life  is  steadily  increasing, 
not  only  in  numbers  but  in  variety,  is  evidenced 

"5 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


by  the  following  list  of  birds  seen  on  the  icth 
of  the  month :  flicker,  brown  creeper,  fox 
sparrow,  white-throat,  song  sparrow,  ruby- 
crowned  kinglet,  gold-crest,  goldfinch  (which 
has  almost  regained  its  summer  plumage), 
snow  -  bird,  robin,  red  -  bellied  woodpecker, 
phoebe,  crossbill,  nuthatch,  crow  blackbird, 
hermit  thrush,  and  pine-creeper — a  miscella- 
neous assortment  of  winter  residents,  summer 
residents,  and  migrants,  and  representative  of 
eight  distinct  families. 

Frequently  one  hears  a  loud,  clear,  and 
peculiar  whistle,  not  on  one  pitch,  like  the  tone 
of  the  white-throat,  but  with  an  upward  inflec- 
tion, like  the  effect  produced  in  whistling  by 
giving  to  the  tone  a  short  and  quick  stroke  up- 
ward. After  a  succession  of  such  tones  comes 
another  series  with  a  corresponding  downward 
inflection  and  more  rapid,  the  whole  effect 
represented  thus : 

-/    -/      ^     _/        -/         ^  ^  ^ 

By  one  who  knows  the  note  of  the  cardinal 
grosbeak  this  will  be  recognized  as  an  accurate 
ocular  description,  and  for  one  who  has  never 
heard  it,  I  can  say  with  confidence  that  it  is 
not  more  cabalistic  and  inadequate  than  the 
116 


April 

majority  of  efforts  to  put  a  bird's  notes  into 
black  and  white.  It  is  the  most  characteristic 
and  promising  call-note  I  have  ever  heard. 
Reference  will  be  made  to  the  song  later. 

In  this  connection  it  may  be  said  that  perhaps 
the  commonest  error  in  song-description  is  the 
frequent  allusion  of  all  writers  to  a  bird's  trill — 
a  thing  very  seldom  heard.  This  is  a  con- 
venient word  for  describing  a  peculiarly  brilliant 
and  beautiful  phase  of  its  vocalization,  and  with 
a  clear  understanding  of  its  general  inaccuracy 
I  suppose  it  is  admissible  to  perpetuate  the 
monosyllabic  falsehood. 

From  now  on  it  is  an  experience  of  parting 
with  old  friends  as  well  as  greeting  new  ones. 
By  the  middle  of  the  month  the  fox  sparrows, 
so  abundant  and  singing  so  freely  during  all 
their  stay,  had  quite  disappeared.  Coming  out 
of  a  cloudy  sky  with  an  avalanche  of  song,  they 
leave  one  of  the  pleasantest  and  most  distinct 
memories  of  early  spring,  like  the  anemone,  and 
have  passed  on  into  an  anticipation  of  the  next 
year.  Very  companionable  with  all  other  birds, 
they  had  a  delightful  way  of  making  themselves 
quite  at  home  during  their  short  visit,  without 
becoming  obnoxious,  like  the  grackles ;  the  best 
sort  of  company,  that  comes  to  entertain  as  well 
117 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


as  to  be  entertained,  so  that  when  they  are  gone 
you  feel  that  the  obligation  is  rather  on  your 
own  side. 

Occasionally  it  is  worth  while  to  glance  even 
at  a  flock  of  English  sparrows,  for  one  morning  I 
found  among  them  a  purple  finch.  To  be  sure, 
sparrows  are  finches,  and,  as  the  German  ex- 
pressed it,  "  birds  mit  one  fedder  go  mit  dem- 
selves ;  "  but  cousinship  is  a  bond  that  is  con- 
veniently played  "  fast  and  loose,"  according 
to  the  social  plane  of  the  parties  themselves,  and 
birds  can  be  just  as  aristocratic  and  exclusive 
as  their  human  neighbors. 

In  full  plumage  the  purple  finch  is  more  car- 
mine than  purple,"  but  at  this  season  it  is  quite 
nondescript,  as  if  a  large  sparrow  had  been 
dipped  in  a  purplish  carmine  tincture  and  then 
been  washed  off  in  streaks.  It  was  very  shy  at 
my  approach,  and  between  my  anxiety  to  get 
as  near  as  possible,  and  my  fear  that  it  would 
be  frightened  quite  away,  I  was  in  a  strait.  As 
it  paused  a  moment,  in  flying  from  tree  to  tree, 
it  lured  me  on  with  that  delicious  carol  that  has 
established  its  reputation  as  one  of  the  finest  of 
finch  songsters — a  warble  that  suggests  that 
of  the  robin  and  bluebird,  but  more  prolonged. 
Some  one  has  likened  its  song  to  that  of  the 
118 


April 

warbling  vireo,  but  the  tone  is  far  more  full  and 
rich  than  the  vireo's.  Both  the  warbling  and 
the  red-eyed  vireo  make  one  feel  that  they  have 
not  the  sweetest  temper  in  the  world,  but  the 
purple  finch  is  evidently  one  of  the  most  cor- 
dial and  good-natured  of  creatures. 
Now,  too, 

"  The  swallow  skims  the  river's  wat'ry  face, 
The  frogs  renew  the  croaks  of  their  loquacious  race  ; " 

— the  white-breasted  swallows  being  the  earliest 
of  the  family  to  appear  in  spring.  They  are 
only  about  six  inches  long ;  but  the  wide  sweep 
of  the  wings  and  the  pure  white  of  the  body  be- 
neath make  them  very  conspicuous ;  while  the 
lustrous  steel-green  of  the  upper  side  becomes 
visible  when  they  sail  near  the  ground.  There 
is  an  ecstasy  or  intoxication  in  the  flight  of  the 
swallows,  as  a  large  number  of  them  perform 
their  bewildering  and  tireless  evolutions  over 
stream  or  lake,  that  affords  one  of  the  most 
pleasing  and  animated  scenes  of  inland  nature. 
On  the  same  day  as  the  swallows,  came  the 
third  warbler,  the  "yellow-rump,"  the  most 
abundant  in  the  migrations,  and  the  only  one  of 
the  family  that  lingers  in  this  latitude  through 
the  winter,  although  the  great  majority  even  of 
119 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


this  species  go  south  every  fall.  Less  brilliant 
than  the  "  red-poll,"  it  is  hardly  less  dressy,  in 
black  and  white,  with  four  yellow  spots,  on  head, 
sides,  and  rump.  The  first  three  are  variable, 
sometimes  wanting,  but  the  persistence  and 
prominence  of  the  fourth  spot  gives  the  name 
to  the  species.  This  has  the  habit  of  perching 
and  flying  higher  than  most  of  the  family  ;  and 
there  is  nothing  more  aggravating  than  to  have 
a  small  specimen  which  you  are  unfamiliar  with 
remain  near  the  top  of  a  tree,  move  about  in- 
cessantly, and,  just  as  you  have  reached  a  coigne 
of  vantage,  coolly  fly  off  out  of  sight. 


One  morning,  in  a  driving  rain-storm,  I  start- 
ed out  to  explore  the  upper  and  less  frequented 
part  of  the  Park.  With  an  ardor  that  my  moist 
surroundings  could  not  dampen,  it  was  still 
especially  gratifying  to  find  something  new,  for 
I  soon  discovered  a  (to  me)  unfamiliar  species 
of  nuthatch,  the  red-breasted.  The  only  other 
one  in  this  region,  the  white-breasted,  can  gen- 
erally be  found  in  all  our  woods  through  the 
winter,  and  the  red-breasted  are  probably  rarer 
only  in  the  sense  that  they  winter  farther  south, 
and  are  with  us  a  shorter  time.  If  the  white- 


April 

breasted  is  plain,  the  red-breasted  is  plainer. 
But  that  makes  little  difference  to  the  naturalist ; 
he  has  conquered  another  world  in  finding  a  new 
species,  and  beauty  is  sometimes  a  superfluity. 

The  nuthatches  are  peculiar  fellows  in  that 
they  have  little  fear,  but  a  great  deal  of  curi- 
osity. In  a  very  pert  and  comical  manner  one 
will  stretch  out  its  neck,  cock  its  head  on  one 
side,  and  coolly  examine  a  person  passing  by. 
But  the  difference  between  impudent  boldness 
and  artless  inquisitiveness  is  as  easily  distin- 
guishable in  a  bird  as  in  a  human  being. 

This  particular  specimen  seemed  to  show  an 
unwonted  degree  of  curiosity  in  watching  me  ; 
and  doubtless,  from  a  bird's  point  of  view,  a 
person  under  an  umbrella,  looking  through  an 
opera-glass,  is  a  somewhat  startling  piece  of 
mechanism  that  might  well  astonish  a  Canadian 
nuthatch. 

In  habits,  range,  and  note  the  two  species 
closely  resemble  each  other.  The  red-breasted 
is  smaller,  has  a  black  stripe  on  the  side  of  the 
face,  and  is  of  a  pale  rusty  color  beneath ;  whereas 
the  other  has  a  clear  white  face  and  is  nearly 
white  beneath.  It  is  a  strange  habit  of  the 
nuthatches  that  they  rest  and  even  sleep  cling- 
ing to  the  tree-trunk  head  downward.* 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


One  morning,  as  I  was  watching  the  pranks  of 
a  "yellow-rump,"  darting  hither  and  thither, 
apparently  as  much  from  exuberance  of  spirits 
as  with  foraging  intent,  my  attention  was  called 
to  a  large  pearl  and  white  colored  bird  high  in 
a  tree  on  the  border  of  the  Lake,  a  jet  black 
stripe  on  its  head  and  back,  feet  and  legs  brightly 
colored,  and  its  long  dark  bill  sunk  in  the  feath- 
ers of  the  breast,  as  if  fast  asleep.  In  its  im- 
movable position  and  bare  surroundings  it  was 
a  most  picturesque  emblem  of  solitude,  one  of 
those  slight  but  suggestive  touches  in  nature  that 
one  is  constantly  stumbling  upon. 

In  my  helpless  ignorance  of  what  it  was,  I 
grasped  at  a  straw,  and  asked  a  policeman  near 
by  if  he  could  enlighten  me.  Now,  experience 
has  taught  me  that,  like  many  other  people  in 
the  world,  a  policeman  feels  a  deep  sense  of  hu- 
miliation if  obliged  to  confess  that  he  is  unable 
to  answer  any  question  propounded  to  him ;  and 
this  one  in  particular,  who  was  not  better  than 
his  fathers,  promptly  and  with  half  contemptu- 
ous tone  told  me  it  was  a  duck.  His  assurance 
was  of  course  not  lessened  by  the  fact  that  he 
had  not  fully  seen  the  bird.  At  first  I  felt 
crushed  by  his  wisdom  and  my  own  stupidity, 
forgetting  for  the  instant  that  the  creature  in 


BLACK-CROWNED    NIGHT   HERON 


April 

question  had  no  more  the  '•'  build"  of  a  duck 
than  of  an  owl ;  but  I  soon  rallied  sufficiently  to 
ask  him  if  ducks  roost  in  trees.  This  flank  fire 
routed  him,  and,  recovering  my  self-respect,  I 
applied  to  a  more  infallible  source  of  scientific 
information — the  Natural  History  Museum — and 
found  the  bird  to  be  a  black-crowned  night 
heron. 

Lest  any  one,  wise  in  the  ways  of  birds,  should 
accuse  me  of  an  egregious  slip  in  ornithological 
lore,  I  hasten  to  confess  that  ducks  sometimes 
do  roost  in  trees;  indeed,  one  species  finds  its 
nest  in  the  holes  of  trees.  Yet  I  was  fully  justi- 
fied in  the  bold  front  I  presented  to  this  guar- 
dian of  the  peace.  I  challenged  him  with  the 
rule — the  only  weapon  that  a  person  of  his  sci- 
entific attainments  could  safely  use.  An  excep- 
tion is  always  a  dangerous  article  in  the  hands 
of  the  inexperienced. 

The  herons  are  one  of  several  mournfully 
poetic  families  of  birds  that  gracefully  adorn 
many  a  landscape,  real  and  pictured.  The 
largest  and  most  elegant  of  this  family  are  the 
great  blue  and  the  great  white  herons,  found 
here  and  there  in  the  vicinity  of  water,  either 
singly  or  in  small  flocks.  The  night  heron,  a 
pair  of  which  remained  several  weeks  near  the 
123 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


spot  where  I  found  it,  and  said  to  have  nested 
in  the  neighborhood,  is  much  more  abundant, 
being  often  found  in  immense  colonies  of  hun- 
dreds and  thousands,  where  a  single  tree  is  said 
sometimes  to  contain  a  dozen  nests.  Southern 
New  England  contains  several  such  heronries. 


The  entire  feathered  race  divides  itself  easily 
and  naturally  into  Land  Birds  and  Water  Birds. 
The  former  division  contains  all  the  best-known 
species  —  song-birds,  woodpeckers,  owls,  hawks, 
eagles,  etc.  —  from  their  greater  proximity  to 
man.  But  the  water-birds,  with  their  distinct- 
ive forms  and  habits,  are  not  less  interesting 
objects  of  study,  and,  although  without  the 
attractive  elements  of  song  and  (in  compara- 
tively few  species)  brilliant  plumage,  include 
many  of  our  most  picturesque  and  graceful  speci- 
mens. 

In  any  region  having  an  extensive  water- 
front, especially  if  it  be  marine,  the  water-birds 
are  also  numerically  important,  as,  for  example, 
in  the  New  England  States,  where  they  consti- 
tute about  two-fifths  of  the  entire  avifauna. 
They  are  of  two  quite  distinct  sorts,  known  as 
"waders"  and  "swimmers."  The  waders 
124 


April 

are  chiefly  shore-birds,  commonly  found  on  the 
borders  of  the  ocean,  lake,  bog,  or  stream,  or 
wading  in  the  shallows  where  they  find  the  ani- 
mal food  on  which  they  chiefly  subsist,  and 
which  they  are  so  evidently  adapted  to  procure, 
by  their  long  bills  and  necks,  slender  bodies, 
and  long  legs.  The  most  beautiful  of  water- 
fowl are  in  this  class,  such  as  the  cranes,  storks, 
and  herons  of  the  Northern  States,  and  the 
gorgeous  flamingoes  of  Florida,  all  of  these 
about  four  feet  in  length  and  several  feet  high. 

The  "swimmers"  are  of  a  different  type, 
being  generally  thick-set,  short-limbed,  and 
web-footed — an  organization  that  makes  them 
as  much  and  often  more  at  home  in  the  water 
than  on  the  wing.  The  prevailing  type  of  this 
class  is  illustrated  in  swans,  ducks,  gulls,  and 
loons,  while  a  few  of  the  families,  like  the 
terns  and  petrels,  are  more  aerial  in  form. 

Nature  shades  off  one  class  of  her  creatures  into 
another,  and  there  is  no  impassable  gulf  fixed 
between  ' '  waders  ' '  and  ' '  swimmers, ' '  however 
pronouncedly  different  the  two  types  are  in 
general.  Even  among  the  "  waders  "  there  are 
different  degrees  of  the  web-foot,  from  the  total 
absence  of  it  in  many,  up  to  the  avocet,  which 
is  almost  fully  web-footed.  Nature  seems  very 
125 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


enigmatical  in  offering  the  largest  encourage- 
ment to  man's  efforts  to  apprehend  the  scheme 
of  creation,  and  at  the  same  time  apparently 
mocking  his  labors  by  her  impenetrable  mys- 
teries. Yet  this  contradiction  has  its  advan- 
tage. Without  success  in  his  research,  man 
would  become  discouraged  ;  and  without  fail- 
ure, conceited. 

Another  of  the  "waders,"  appearing  in  the 
Park  soon  after  the  herons,  is  the  spotted  sand- 
piper. The  sandpipers  are  a  family  of  small 
and  plainly  colored  birds,  most  of  the  species 
frequenting  the  sea-coast  or  salt-marshes  ;  but 
the  spotted  and  solitary  sandpipers  are  fresh- 
water birds.  A  pair  of  the  former  remained  at 
the  Lake  several  days.  It  is  from  seven  to  eight 
inches  long,  dark  above,  and  beneath  white, 
thickly  spotted  with  dark.  Their  flight  is 
quite  peculiar.  With  one  quick  stroke  of  the 
wings  they  can  propel  themselves  a  long  dis- 
tance, and,  by  repeating  at  intervals  the  single 
vibration,  they  appear  to  be  floating  in  air,  as 
with  motionless  wing  they  speed  along  close  to 
the  water.  When  standing  on  the  ground  they 
have  a  ludicrous  trick  of  ducking  the  head  and 
jerking  the  body,  the  purpose  of  which  is  quite 
unaccountable,  a  habit  that  has  given  them  the 
126 


April 

expressive,  if  not  elegant,  sobriquet  of  "  tee- 
tertail"  or  "tip-up."  The  long,  thin  anat- 
omy of  the  waders  gives  them  a  somewhat 
ungainly  appearance  as  compared  with  the 
flowing  outlines  of  the  land-birds.  Yet  the 
water-fowl  have  a  strong  and  unique  fascina- 
tion, in  part  doubtless  due  to  the  reflection  of 
the  water's  own  mysterious  influence. 


The  next  warbler  to  arrive  was  the  well- 
known  but  always  welcome  "  black-and-white 
creeper,"  whose  name  is  a  polysyllabic  state- 
ment of  its  plumage  and  method  of  progression 
as  it  scrambles  about  on  the  trunks  and  branches. 
It  seldom  occurs  to  one,  as  he  watches  the 
sprightly  movements  and  graceful  posturings  of 
this  and  so  many  other  species,  intent  only  upon 
satisfying  their  hunger,  what  an  incessant  and 
invaluable  service  they  are  thus  rendering  to 
man  himself.  We  are  forced  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  feathered  tribe  is  about  the  most  ingen- 
ious combination  of  utility  and  ornament  ever 
devised  by  the  Creator. 

A  few  feet  from  where  this  little  fellow  uncon- 
sciously introduced  himself  to  me  (I  say  himself 
purposely,  for  his  graceful  complement  was  lag- 
127 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


ging  behind  somewhere  in  South  Carolina)  a 
suspicious  rustle  in  the  low  bushes  betrayed  a 
larger  bird,  which  took  flight  as  I  approached ; 
its  size,  a  little  smaller  than  the  robin,  black 
body,  chestnut  sides,  and  the  "  white  feather" 
it  shows  in  the  tail  as  it  flies,  proved  it  to  be  the 
chewink  or  towhee  bunting.  It  is  not  yet  in 
song,  and  allusion  will  be  made  to  it  again. 

A  most  humble  specimen  of  a  humble  group 
is  the  field  sparrow,  considerably  like  the 
"chipper,"  but  its  markings  even  less  dis- 
tinctive, the  most  significant  feature  being  the 
reddish  tinge  of  the  bill.  Its  note,  too,  is 
quite  different  from  the  familiar  sound  of  the 
chipping  sparrow.  While  not  an  uncommon 
bird,  its  shyness  and  resemblance  to  its  bolder 
and  more  noisy  congener  make  it  a  compara- 
tively unfamiliar  species. 

Close  upon  the  field  sparrow  I  stumbled 
upon  an  unusually  beautiful  warbler,  which  one 
may  well  be  enthusiastic  about,  for  it  is  one  of 
the  daintiest  of  the  family,  bound  literally  in 
blue  and  gold  and  white,  and  in  form  and  col- 
oring one  could  hardly  imagine  anything  more 
exquisite.  A  light  ashy-blue  spreads  over  the 
upper  part  of  the  body  and  wings,  finely  sprin- 
kled with  gold  in  the  centre  of  the  back, 
128 


April 

while  beneath  it  is  snow-white  except  for  the 
yellow  and  brownish  band  across  the  breast. 
This  is  called  the ' '  blue  yellow-back, ' '  and  is  one 
of  the  smallest  of  the  warbler  group.  It  soon 
became  quite  common,  especially  at  a  certain 
spot  where  the  opening  buds  of  the  shrubbery 
proved  to  be  particularly  delectable.  It  was 
a  picture  not  to  be  forgotten,  as  in  their  rich 
colors  they  swayed  on  the  tall,  slender  branches, 
and  with  inimitable  grace  assumed  every  va- 
riety of  posture  in  plucking  the  fresh  leaves. 
A  stuffed  specimen  of  such  a  creature  is  an 
utter  caricature  of  the  original. 

If  each  night,  from  about  the  middle  of 
April  to  the  middle  of  May,  one's  vision  could 
sweep  through  the  entire  range  of  sky  from 
New  England  to  Mexico,  what  bird-clouds  he 
would  see  rolling  up  from  the  south,  here  and 
there  settling  to  the  ground,  rising  again,  and 
pushing  northward.  One  of  the  largest  "  cloud- 
bursts ' '  of  this  sort  in  the  Ramble  was  on 
the  agth,  which  was  a  red-letter  day  for  the 
ornithologist,  transforming  the  Park  into  a  veri- 
table aviary.  Red-polls,  black-and-white  creep- 
ers, and  yellow-rumps  were  swarming  among 
the  larches,  while  in  the  adjoining  trees  a 
sprightly  and  characteristic  song  called  attention 
129 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


to  a  flock  of  brilliant  warblers  that  I  had  been 
several  days  looking  for — the  black-throated 
greens.  Blue  yellow-backs  were  fluttering  here 
and  there,  while  a  single  Canada  nuthatch 
looked  quite  out  of  place  amid  the  gorgeous 
array.  At  a  short  distance  was  the  Maryland 
yellow-throat,  the  black-throated  blue,  and  the 
golden-crowned  warbler  or  oven-bird.  Four 
species  of  sparrows,  three  of  the  thrushes  (the 
Wilson  and  wood  thrushes  having  just  arrived), 
and  many  of  the  usual  varieties  made  the  num- 
ber twenty-three  that  I  saw  that  morning. 

Fortunately  most  of  the  new  arrivals  were  not 
yet  in  song,  which  would  have  made  the  effect 
a  little  too  luxurious.  The  mere  sight  of  all  the 
gay  throng  was  quite  sufficient  for  one  day. 

On  the  same  morning  a  large  flock  of  purple 
finches  were  discovered,  mute  and  motionless  in 
a  tree.  There  was  no  excuse  for  their  silence, 
as  they  were  already  in  song  nearly  three  weeks 
before. 

The  most  abundant  warbler  is  the  yellow- 
rump,  and  quite  conspicuous  with  the  two  gold 
badges  on  the  breast ;  while  a  more  dashing 
beauty  is  the  black-throated  green,  its  throat 
and  breast  like  black  velvet,  the  sides  of  the 
head  a  deep  rich  yellow,  the  back  olive-green 
130 


BLACK-THROATED    GREEN    WARBLERS 


April 

and  white  beneath.  Its  song  is  more  varied 
than  that  of  many  of  the  warblers,  and  in  all 
respects  it  is  one  of  the  most  attractive  of  the 
group.  In  their  summer  homes  their  prefer- 
ence is  for  the  pines  and  cedars,  but  in  the  mi- 
grations the  distinctive  tastes  of  birds  are  not 
so  evident. 

The  following  morning  added  two  more  to  the 
month's  list,  although  they  probably  came  in  the 
"  wave  ' '  of  the  day  before.  Passing  the  Lake, 
I  heard  the  brown  thrush  or  thrasher  "welcom- 
ing the  day,"  and  I  ventured  to  take  a  little  of 
the  greeting  to  myself.  He  was  high  in  a  tree, 
and  in  the  heterogeneous  vocal  business  as  usual, 
as  if  sampling  all  the  melodies  he  could  remem- 
ber. In  its  miscellaneous  character  the  song  is 
much  like  the  catbird's  pot-pourri,  but  with 
richer  tone.  The  thrasher  is  the  other  thrushes' 
"big  brother,"  as  his  plumage  and  voice  plainly 
show.  And,  lastly,  one  of  the  smallest  of  war- 
blers, only  four  and  a  half  inches  long,  olive 
above,  with  brick-red  spots  on  the  back,  and 
bright  yellow  beneath,  spotted  with  black,  called 
the  prairie  warbler,  possibly  because  its  taste  is 
more  for  open  land  than  for  the  woods. 

The  following  is  the  summary  for  April,  the 
majority  of  the  forty  species  having  been  at  one 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


time  or  another  quite  numerous  in  the  Park : 
the  grackle,  robin,  snowbird,  European  gold- 
finch, white-throat,  fox  sparrow,  song  sparrow, 
flicker,  phoebe,  white-breasted  nuthatch,  gold- 
crest,  brown  creeper,  crow,  pine  warbler,  yel- 
low-bellied woodpecker,  cardinal,  hermit  thrush, 
chipper,  crossbill,  ruby-crowned  kinglet,  Ameri- 
can goldfinch,  red-poll,  purple  finch,  white- 
breasted  swallow,  yellow-rump,  red -breasted 
nuthatch,  night  heron,  black-and-white  creeper, 
towhee  bunting,  field  sparrow,  blue  yellow-back, 
spotted  sandpiper,  Wilson  thrush,  wood  thrush, 
black-throated  green  warbler,  black-throated 
blue,  Maryland  yellow-throat,  golden-crowned 
warbler,  thrasher,  and  prairie  warbler. 

Many  an  ornithologist  throughout  the  coun- 
try can  report  a  longer  and  more  varied  list 
for  April  than  mine,  with  its  paucity  of  water 
birds,  and  with  none  of  the  game  birds,  nor  of 
the  birds  of  prey.  But  certainly  in  the  fore- 
going record  is  ample  subject-matter  wherein 
to  find  either  relaxation  or  instructive  stimu- 
lus. It  can  hardly  be  doubted  that  far  more 
would  make  this  pursuit  an  avocation,  if  they 
realized  that  the  opportunities  therefor  lay  so 
conveniently  at  hand.  Flowers  and  birds  are 
among  the  winged  ministrants,  rather  than 


April 

among  the  stern  task-masters,  of  mankind. 
Neither  abstruse  nor  profound,  they  are  cer- 
tainly unexcelled  among  the  works  of  nature 
for  affording  a  restful  modulation  of  thought, 
and  for  quickly  resolving  a  tangled  state  of 
mind  from  discord  into  harmony. 


«33 


May 


"  Airs,  vernal  airs, 

Breathing  the  smell  of  field  and  grove,  attune 
The  trembling  leaves." 

Milton. 


MAY 

[HE  success  of  the  naturalist  depends 
far  less  upon  his  area  of  observation 
than  would  be  commonly  supposed. 
Where  he  looks  is  of  less  importance 
than  how  he  looks,  and  the  experienced  eye 
will  often  glean  a  rich  harvest  from  apparently 
most  unpromising  fields.  One's  range  of  re- 
search is  usually  determined  by  circumstances 
rather  than  by  preference ;  and  in  either  case 
unfamiliar  surroundings  will,  in  a  measure,  dis- 
tract his  attention  from  the  objects  he  is  im- 
mediately seeking,  while  increasing  familiarity 
with  the  place  leaves  the  mind  freer  for  its 
work,  and  gives  quicker  discernment  of  all  the 
treasures  hidden  within  it,  until  at  last  it  may 
prove  a  very  prolific  field  of  investigation.  It 
will  rarely  occur,  however,  that  one  will  come 
to  have  such  confidence  in  its  boundless  re- 
sources as  to  feel  that  complacent  admiration 
which  Thoreau  cherished  for  his  favorite  haunts, 
of  whom  it  is  recorded  that  on  one  occasion  he 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


returned  "  Kane's  Arctic  Voyages  "  to  a  friend 
of  whom  he  had  borrowed  the  book,  with  the 
comfortable  remark  that  "most  of  the  phe- 
nomena noted  therein  might  be  observed  in 
Concord"  (!). 

And  so  poorly  do  even  the  best-trained 
visual  organs  often  serve  the  observer,  that, 
whereas  we  commonly  suppose  it  necessary  to 
see  an  object  in  order  to  know  it,  it  is  quite  as 
often  the  case  that  we  must  first  know  it  in 
order  to  see  it.  This  is  strikingly  illustrated  in 
the  case  of  that  same  remarkably  keen  observer, 
Thoreau,  who,  nevertheless,  made  the  confes- 
sion that  it  repeatedly  befell  him  that,  after  re- 
ceiving from  a  distance  a  rare  plant,  he  would 
presently  find  the  same  in  his  own  haunts. 


Every  fourth  bird  one  sees  at  this  season  is  a 
robin.  Poor  fellow,  he  fails  to  get  such  admir- 
ing looks  as  those  that  greeted  him  a  few  weeks 
ago.  He  was  a  hero  in  March ;  but  times  have 
changed.  Every  dog  has  his  day,  and  so  has 
every  bird ;  and  now  in  May  our  old  friend  has 
lost  a  little  of  his  prestige.  Yet  he  can  well  for- 
give the  world's  little  inconstancy,  for  it  will 
inevitably  come  back  to  its  old-time  regard, 

138 


May 

after  the  bewilderment  of  the  spring  migration. 
For  a  season  one's  special  admiration  may  be 
aroused  by  the  gayer  plumage  and  more  brill- 
iant song  of  other  species ;  but  the  world  is  not 
so  fickle  at  heart  as  it  seems  ;  for  I  very  much 
doubt  if  there  are  many  persons  who  would 
willingly  take  any  one  of  these  captivating 
novelties  in  permanent  exchange  for  honest  old 
robin.  He  occupies  a  niche  in  our  enduring, 
if  less  demonstrative,  regard,  from  which  he 
need  never  fear  he  will  be  routed  by  rivals. 
Spring  would  be  indeed  almost  a  failure  with- 
out him ;  and  on  a  cloudy  day  in  the  lonely 
woods  the  sound  of  his  cheerful  warble  is  as 
refreshing  as  a  cool  breeze  in  August. 

A  somewhat  rare  and  a  very  elegant  warbler, 
which  I  had  never  before  seen,  made  its  ap- 
pearance on  the  first  day  of  May,  called  the 
' '  hooded  ' '  warbler.  It  is  seldom  found  far- 
ther north  than  this  latitude ;  and  as  no  species 
is  likely  to  be  numerous  on  the  boundaries  of  its 
range,  we  must  be  content  with  seeing  it  only 
occasionally.  As  far  as  I  know  only  one 
mature  male  specimen  has  been  seen  hereabouts 
this  year.  He  has  a  bright  yellow  head,  throat, 
and  breast,  and  is  apparently  enveloped  in  a 
broad  jet  black  hood.  The  combination  and 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


richness  of  the  coloring  produce  a  far  more 
striking  and  beautiful  effect  than  one  would 
infer  from  the  language  of  the  description.  My 
view  of  him  was  most  satisfactory,  as  he  was 
remarkably  fearless  in  allowing  one  to  approach 
him.  A  peculiarity  of  this  bird  is  its  con- 
stantly spreading  the  tail  (not  flirting  it,  like 
the  red-poll),  and  the  action  was  the  more 
noticeable  on  account  of  the  large  white  spots 
on  the  quills.  After  lingering  about  for  a  few 
days  he  disappeared,  and  afterward  I  found  a 
female,  or  else  an  immature  male,  in  which  the 
hood  was  much  restricted — hardly  more  than 
the  outline  of  black.  If  there  is  anything 
shabby  or  deficient  in  the  attire  of  a  specimen, 
it  is  usually  safe  in  spring  to  relegate  it  to  the 
female  persuasion,  although  in  many  cases  the 
young  males  are  condemned  to  wear  the  mean 
habiliments  of  the  female  until  they  have 
gained  their  glorious  prerogatives.  Commonly 
the  young  male  comes  out  in  full  plumage  the 
second  year ;  but  in  a  few  cases,  of  which  I 
think  the  hooded  warbler  is  one,  not  until  the 
third  year. 

The  catbirds  are  becoming  numerous,  and 
at  the  Pond  a  large  waterfowl  attracted  my 
attention,  passing  in  graceful  flight  across  the 

140 


May 

water.  To  get  a  nearer  view  of  the  stranger  I 
went  around  the  Pond,  but  was  grieved  to  find 
that  there  was  a  radical  difference  of  opinion 
between  him  and  myself  as  to  the  desirability 
of  both  of  us  being  on  the  same  side  of  the 
water  at  once,  as  he  immediately  withdrew  to 
the  opposite  shore.  This,  however,  gave  me 
an  opportunity  to  note  the  greenish  shade  of 
the  back  and  the  yellowish  legs  dangling  be- 
hind ;  and,  on  approaching  him  cautiously  the 
second  time,  I  could  see  the  brownish  color  of 
neck  and  breast.  Thinking  that  the  acquaint- 
ance had  now  gone  quite  too  far,  he  took  wing 
and  disappeared  entirely,  but  leaving  behind 
his  name,  if  not  his  address,  for  it  was  evidently 
the  green  heron.  Inferior  to  the  night  heron, 
as  that  is  to  the  more  beautiful  and  stately 
great  blue  and  great  white  herons,  they  are  all 
alike  in  the  sadly  reminiscent,  melancholy  air 
that  characterizes  them  in  all  their  attitudes. 
The  heron  is  the  impersonation  of  gloom,  silence, 
and  solitude.  Loneliness  can  only  be  expressed 
by  sentient  life.  A  deeper  sense  of  desolation 
is  aroused  by  seeing  a  water-fowl  coursing  in  sol- 
itary flight  above  the  sea,  than  in  the  grandest 
vision  of  the  boundless  deep,  when  unrelieved 
by  even  the  least  appearance  of  vitality. 
141 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


Like  the  night  heron,  the  green  heron  win- 
ters in  the  south,  and  in  summer  is  widely 
spread  over  the  United  States  and  beyond,  liv- 
ing in  secluded  places  near  the  water. 

Another  bird  hovering  about  the  water,  which 
the  casual  observer  would  suppose  could  be 
reckoned  among  the  water-fowl  with  much  the 
same  propriety  as  the  herons  (a  classification 
which  I  suppose  is  forbidden  by  their  interior 
anatomy,  or  perhaps  by  the  length  of  the  hind 
toe)  is  the  belted  kingfisher.  This  bird  is  fully 
a  foot  long,  blue  above,  white  beneath,  with  a 
bluish  band  across  the  breast.  It  is  a  familiar 
sight  throughout  the  whole  of  North  America 
in  summer,  frequenting  rivers,  lakes,  and  ponds, 
from  which  it  obtains  its  food,  which  is  chief- 
ly small  fish,  for  the  capture  of  which  it  will 
sometimes  plunge  fully  under  water.  Ungain- 
ly in  appearance  when  perching,  it  retrieves 
its  reputation  by  a  graceful  and  rapid  manner 
of  flight. 

The  confused  character  of  the  present  system 
of  grouping  birds  is  nowhere  exhibited  more 
strikingly  than  in  the  relegation  of  kingfish- 
ers, along  with  humming-birds,  night  hawks, 
cuckoos,  woodpeckers,  and  chimney  swallows, 
to  an  Order  called  Picariae,  "established,"  as 
142 


BELTED    KINGFISHER 


May 

one  authority  states  it,  "  to  receive  those  birds 
which  do  not  belong  elsewhere  "  (!).  This  is 
certainly  a  masterly  device  for  the  perplexed 
scientist,  but  rather  severe  on  the  birds  that 
must  be  thus  huddled  together  in  enforced 
relationship,  as  a  penalty  for  the  shortcomings 
of  "science  falsely  so  called."  And  as  for 
ourselves,  inasmuch  as  we  enjoy  an  individual 
just  as  well  for  not  knowing  his  relatives  (and 
sometimes  a  good  deal  better)  we  will  try  to 
forget  that  the  humming-bird  is  cousin-in-law 
to  the  night  hawk  and  the  woodpecker,  and 
admire  the  exquisite  form,  motion,  and  color- 
ing of  the  tiny  creature  unprejudiced  by  its 
scientific  affinities. 

Nature  is  uniformly  dignified  in  her  works 
and  ways,  and  yet  she  leaves  a  trace  here  and 
there  of  a  humorous  mood  not  incompatible 
with  her  repute.  There  is  a  sly  touch  of  droll- 
ery in  the  appearance  of  the  golden-crowned 
warbler  or  oven-bird,  which  must  always  elicit 
an  amused  smile  from  anyone  who  watches  its 
movements, — an  interesting  specimen  from  any 
point  of  view.  Almost  invariably  it  is  to  be 
found  on  the  ground,  dodging  out  of  sight  as 
you  approach  it,  its  somewhat  erect  tail  giving 
it  a  jaunty  air,  while  with  a  mincing  dignity 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


that  is  ludicrous  in  so  small  a  bird  it  deliberately 
walks  about,  but  withal  as  innocent  of  any  as- 
sumption as  a  child.  The  song  also  is  striking, 
indeed  literally  so,  for  the  notes  come  like  a  suc- 
cession of  little  explosions,  quite  startling  when 
in  close  proximity  to  the  bird.  As  in  the  case 
of  most  of  the  warblers,  its  vocalization  can 
scarcely  be  dignified  by  the  name  of  song, 
being  the  reiteration  of  a  pair  of  notes  on  almost 
the  same  pitch,  but  louder  and  louder,  which 
has  been  aptly  compared  to  the  reiteration  of 
teacher,  TEACHER,  TEACHER.  The  coloring, 
too,  in  the  spring,  is  elegant  if  not  brilliant,  be- 
ing of  a  rich  shade  of  olive  above,  and  beneath 
white  with  dark  spots,  and  the  head  ornamented 
with  orange  and  black  stripes.  It  is  one  of  the 
largest  of  the  warblers  (fully  six  inches  long), 
and  was  formerly  classed  with  the  thrushes, 
looking  like  a  dwarfed  species  of  that  family. 
The  name  of  oven-bird  is  due  to  the  form  of 
its  nest,  which  is  placed  on  the  ground  and 
built  over,  resembling  a  rude  oven. 

Everyone  who  attempts  to  describe  a  bird's 
plumage  realizes  how  inadequate  language  is  to 
convey  a  just  idea  of  the  richness  and  peculiar 
beauty  of  nature's  living  tints.  Even  in  a 
stuffed  specimen  the  delicate  shade  has  often 
144 


May 

so  faded  out  that  the  species  is  almost  unrecog- 
nizable so  far  as  the  color  is  concerned ;  and 
perhaps,  after  all,  the  bare  verbal  description, 
infused  with  the  imagination  of  the  reader,  is 
the  best  substitute  for  the  living  colors. 

On  the  same  day  that  the  oven-bird  walked 
in,  another  warbler  appeared — the  redstart,  and 
also  the  great  crested  flycatcher,  the  largest  of 
that  family  in  this  region.  Female  ruby-crowned 
kinglets,  minus  the  ruby  flame,  are  abundant, 
and  sandpipers  are  scudding  about.  The  white- 
throated  sparrows  on  the  eve  of  departure  for 
their  summer  home  are  now  looking  their  pret- 
tiest, for  the  black,  white,  and  yellow  decora- 
tions of  the  head  are  of  the  purest  shade.  It 
seems  a  little  incongruous  to  find  so  handsome  a 
head  on  so  plain  a  body,  very  much  like  the 
combination  of  a  stylish  bonnet  and  a  coarse 
gown.  They  are  now  very  numerous,  and  their 
' '  peabody  ' '  song  is  to  be  heard  everywhere ; 
but  the  snow-birds  and  red -polls  have  almost 
entirely  disappeared,  their  places  being  taken  by 
the  quantities  of  yellow -rumps,  whose  character- 
istic note  sounds  from  every  bush  and  tree. 

Skimming  over  the  Lake,  one  can  often  see  a 
bevy  of  barn  swallows  apparently  in  the  playful 
chase  of  "  cross-tag,"  but  having  an  eye  also  on 

145 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


the  morsels  of  food  scattered  on  the  water  and 
dexterously  seized  in  their  flight.  This  species  is 
easily  distinguished  from  all  the  others  by  the 
peculiar  tail,  of  which  the  outermost  feathers  are 
very  much  the  longest.  Sometimes  mingled 
with  them  are  the  bank  swallows,  not  steel-blue 
above,  like  the  barn  swallows,  but  dull  brown. 
None  of  the  swallows  have  a  song,  but  their 
feelings  effervesce  in  lively  clinking  notes  that 
are  not  unmusical.  They  are  in  less  need  of  a 
song  than  most  other  birds,  for  they  can  work 
off  their  feelings  through  their  dashing  and  tire- 
less flight. 

If  one  were  asked  to  explain  in  a  word  the 
essential  fascination  of  bird-study,  he  would 
probably  say  it  is  largely  comprised  in  a  bird's 
intensity  of  life.  Even  its  song  finds  half  the 
essence  of  its  charm  in  this.  It  is  manifested 
not  only  in  its  restlessness  as  it  darts  from  twig 
to  twig,  and  from  tree  to  tree,  not  only  in  its 
rushing  and  bewildering  flights,  coursing  hither 
and  thither,  or  dropping  like  the  eagle  and  hawk 
with  almost  inconceivable  rapidity  from  a  dizzy 
height  to  the  ground,  not  only  in  its  rapturous 
song  in  which  it  seems  to  "  pour  forth  its  soul 
in  harmony,"  but  even  in  its  quieter  moments, 
as  you  detect  its  quick  breathing,  the  keen, 
146 


May 

nervous  glance  of  the  eye,  or  its  agony  of  fear. 
This  intensity  of  life  is  a  thousand-fold  more 
potent  than  brilliant  coloring  in  eliciting  man's 
sympathetic  regard,  and  is  the  source  of  almost 
all  of  its  human  analogies. 

A  bird  apparently  finds  itself  unable  to  sing 
when  in  actual  contact  with  the  ground.  It 
seems  difficult  to  explain  the  fact.  Perhaps, 
just  as  the  earth  is  the  great  conductor  of  elec- 
tricity, so  it  similarly  draws  off  the  musical  cur- 
rent or  fluid,  and  the  bird  must  needs  insulate 
itself  by  mounting  a  little  distance,  however 
slight,  in  order  to  accumulate  its  musical  energy. 
And  only  in  rare  instances  do  they  sing  on  the 
wing,  the  most  notable  exception  being  the 
European  skylark,  which  is  the  ideal  of  an  ec- 
static songster  in  pouring  forth  his  melody  as  he 
mounts  to  an  almost  invisible  height,  and  shed- 
ding still  a  radiance  of  sound 

"  From  his  watch-tower  in  the  skies," 

— the  paragon  of  all  the  poets.  Our  own  bobo- 
link also  overflows  in  a  half-intoxicated  song  as 
he  rollicks  in  the  air,  and  occasionally  one 
hears  the  strain  of  the  oriole  as  he  dashes 
through  the  trees.  But  commonly  when  flying 
one  hears  from  them  only  the  call-note,  perhaps 
147 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


several  times  repeated.  Among  the  commonest 
sounds  in  the  country  in  late  summer  are  the 
clusters  of  notes  from  the  goldfinch  (not  its 
warble)  in  its  wavy  flight  far  overhead,  one 
cluster  in  each  undulation,  and — to  be  precise — 
synchronizing  with  its  wing-vibrations,  which 
occur  in  the  last  or  rising  half  of  each  wave. 


That  one's  heartiest  admiration  of  a  bird  is 
rooted  in  something  else  than  the  physical  charm 
of  rich  color  is  conclusively  shown  in  the  case 
of  the  scarlet  tanager — without  exception  the 
most  gorgeously  apparelled  specimen  that  ever 
appears  in  this  latitude.  Even  the  bright  tint 
of  the  cardinal  grosbeak  looks  like  a  pale  wash 
in  comparison  with  the  intense  scarlet  that  cov- 
ers the  entire  body  of  the  tanager,  which  in  the 
direct  sunlight  glows  with  dazzling  brilliancy, 
the  effect  relieved  and  yet  heightened  by  the 
jet-black  wings  and  tail.  And  as  I  saw  it 
perched  upon  the  branch  of  an  evergreen,  the 
effect,  as  a  mere  composition  of  color,  was 
strikingly  beautiful.  But  further  observation 
will  modify  your  estimate.  His  beauty  proves 
to  be  only  feather-deep.  He  has  no  virility. 
From  his  listless  manner  one  would  suppose  the 

148 


May 

exertion  of  migration  to  be  altogether  too  much 
for  him,  and  you  cannot  help  wondering,  as  he 
indolently  hops  about,  how  he  will  ever  get  back 
south  again.  He  is  another  instance  of  the 
handsome  face  that  means  nothing.  The  plain- 
est bird  in  the  Park  is  a  better  entertainer  than 
he.  Said  to  be  an  indifferent  singer,  and  only  a 
clumsy  architect  in  nest-building,  it  was  a  mer- 
ciful Providence  that  gave  him  beauty,  for  it 
gave  him  nothing  else,  and  a  well-stuffed  speci- 
men would  be  quite  as  satisfactory,  were  it  not 
that  the  finest  quality  of  every  color  passes  away 
with  the  life.  It  is  a  touch  of  tropical  luxuri- 
ance that  is  startling,  seeming  almost  out  of 
place  in  this  colder,  paler  zone,  but  inwardly  he 
is  soft,  fluffy,  and  indolent ;  and  here  endeth  the 
lesson  of  the  scarlet  tanager.* 

The  tanager  family  is  a  large  and  brilliant 
one,  and  distinctively  American.  There  are  in 
all  over  three  hundred  species,  most  of  them  in 
tropical  America,  with  only  five  species  through- 
out all  North  America. 

Many  of  the  flycatchers  are  so  extremely 
alike  that  it  is  hardly  more  than  a  theoretical 

*  My  previous  impression  of  this  bird  was  afterward 
both  confirmed  and  a  little  modified  on  hearing  its  song, 
which  is  a  weary  warble,  but  rich  and  full-toned. 

149 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


satisfaction  to  identify  them ;  but  I  think  I  have 
made  the  partial  acquaintance  of  what  is  named 
the  least  flycatcher,  less  than  six  inches  long, 
in  dull  olive  and  dingy  white,  at  first  quite 
silent,  and  afterward  uttering  an  unmusical 
sound  like  se-wic,  two  or  three  times  over.  An 
air  of  poetic  gloom  invests  a  flycatcher,  as  it 
sits  silent,  meditative,  and  alone,  as  different 
from  the  mood  of  a  warbler  as  shadow  is  from 
sunlight. 

One  afternoon  an  unfamiliar  warbler,  and 
regarded  as  one  of  the  handsomest,  came  across 
my  path,  nimbly  darting  in  and  out  among  the 
bushes,  and  daintily  pecking  at  the  newly 
opening  leaves.  Its  various  colors  of  black, 
yellow,  white,  and  ash  are  laid  on  in  a  peculiarly 
bold  and  effective  manner,  and  from  having 
seen  a  "  dried  specimen  "  I  knew  it  at  once  to 
be  the  magnolia  warbler.  As  I  have  watched 
it  from  day  to  day,  hardly  any  of  the  family 
have  given  me  so  much  pleasure  as  this.  Ner- 
vous and  restless  like  all  its  kin,  it  seems  more 
fearless  than  many  of  them,  and  this  is  an 
attractive  feature  in  any  specimen ;  possibly 
because  we  consider  its  confidence  an  indirect 
compliment  to  ourselves. 

On  the  Island  high  in  a  tree  I  discovered 
150 


May 

one  day  a  large  and  unknown  specimen.  For 
four  days  and  four  nights  I  cherished  the  delu- 
sion that  it  was  a  bittern — a  slightly  vulgar 
and  questionable  member  of  the  heron  family. 
Not  that  this  was  anything  to  be  particularly 
boastful  about,  but  it  was  at  least  something 
fresh,  and  like  other  people  I  sometimes  like  to 
make  new  acquaintances,  even  if  I  drop  them. 
I  had  a  faint  misgiving,  however,  that  I  was  in 
error,  and  consulted  his  remains  in  the  Museum. 
Every  ornithologist  will  sympathize  with  me  in 
my  mortification  when  I  found  that  it  was  no 
bittern,  but  only  an  immature  night  heron  ! 
Of  all  the  mistakes  one  can  make  in  this  pur- 
suit, the  most  humiliating  is  that  of  reckoning 
some  half-grown  wretch  as  a  new  species. 

Among  some  blossoms  that  kindly  open  be- 
fore the  leaves  are  out,  appeared,  on  the  5th  of 
the  month,  the  first  humming-bird — the  most 
exquisite  gem  in  all  the  galaxy.  An  admirable 
creation  from  almost  every  point  of  view — as 
delicate  as  the  cobweb  that  can  cause  its  death, 
of  such  emotional  intensity  that  even  terror  alone 
may  quench  its  life,  of  ethereal  mould  and  re- 
splendent color,  this  tropical  atom  is,  notwith- 
standing, lion-hearted  to  attack  even  a  man  in  de- 
fence of  its  nest.  Valor  and  grace  ne'er  found 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


a  more  unique  companionship.  And  what  a 
great  little  traveller  the  humming-bird  is,  dart- 
ing like  an  electric  spark  from  torrid  climes  far 
up  into  the  arctic  regions  with  each  returning 
spring,  and  back  in  the  fall — the  merest  mote 
in  the  vast  blue  expanse.  What  would  not  any 
of  us  give  for  the  opportunity  of  such  a  voyage 
as  the  birds  make  twice  a  year,  and  in  such  a 
novel,  exhilarating,  and  thoroughly  comfort- 
able fashion  ?  No  time-tables,  no  tickets,  no 
baggage.  What  a  panorama  of  mountains, 
lakes,  rivers,  plains,  and  cities  spread  out  be- 
neath the  view  in  such  an  excursion  through 
Labrador,  Canada,  the  New  England,  Middle, 
and  Southern  States,  Mexico,  Central  America, 
and  far  into  the  tropics.  But  the  birds  do  not 
look  at  the  matter  in  just  this  light,  for  they 
travel  nights  and  rest  in  the  daytime.  Another 
instance  of  failing  to  appreciate  one's  peculiar 
privileges,  and  exciting  the  indignant  envy  of 
the  less  favored  but  more  worthy.  What  a 
pity  that  such  a  chance  as  the  birds  have 
should  be  literally  thrown  to  the  winds.  This 
is  only  another  aspect  of  the  mystery  involved 
in  the  child's  question,  "  Why  do  all  the  small 
families  live  in  large  houses,  and  the  large 
families  in  small  houses?" — an  inquiry  hav- 
152 


May 

ing  a  wider    reach    than   the   questioner   ever 
imagined. 

The  family  of  humming-birds  is  a  large  one 
of  fully  four  hundred  species,  found  all  over 
America  from  Patagonia  to  Alaska.  The  centre 
of  abundance  is  in  tropical  America,  while  in 
entire  North  America  there  are  said  to  be  only 
fifteen  species  as  yet  discovered  ;  and  of  these 
only  one,  the  ruby-throated,  that  occurs  in  the 
Eastern  States.  Of  this  species  it  is  the  male 
that  has  the  fiery  breast,  and  after  watching 
this  gleaming  quintessence  of  life  and  brilliancy 
one  would  fain  turn  his  thoughts  away  and  let 
the  memory  fade,  before  he  looks  for  other 
birds. 


Among  all  the  .glorious  company  of  the  war- 
blers, it  is  really  a  relief  from  the  satiety  of  col- 
or occasionally  to  meet  one  that,  to  change  the 
figure,  is  not  so  highly  spiced  ;  and  for  a  rest- 
ful effect  in  pure  white,  blue,  and  black,  nothing 
could  be  finer  than  the  "  black-throated  blue," 
as  chaste  and  elegant  as  one  could  imagine,  and 
with  ample  compensation  for  its  colder  tones  in 
its  grace  of  pose  and  motion.  It  seems  perfect- 
ly silent,  and  I  have  never  heard  its  note  ;  but 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


its  more  showy  cousin,  the  "  blue  yellow-back," 
is  giving  a  taste  of  its  vocalization,  and  a  de- 
licious little  warble  it  is. 

May's  panorama  is  a  constantly  shifting 
scene.  Each  day  discloses  new-comers,  while 
the  earlier  ones  gradually  diminish  and  silently 
disappear.  In  one's  experience  of  warbler-life, 
perhaps  he  touches  high-water  mark  when  he 
sees  for  the  first  time  a  perfect  specimen  of  the 
Blackburnian  warbler.  To  avoid  the  appear- 
ance of  exaggeration  I  must  refrain  from  ade- 
quately expressing  the  surprise  and  amazement 
elicited  by  this  glowing  coal  of  fire.  My  first 
view  of  one  in  full  blaze  was  on  the  6th  of  the 
month,  as  it  was  running  about  over  the  open 
ground,  where  it  remained  a  long  time  only  a 
few  feet  distant.  It  might  properly  be  named 
the  conflagration  warbler.  Called,  prosily 
enough,  from  its  discoverer,  Blackburn,  the 
name  is  saved  to  poetry  by  the  significant  play 
upon  words ;  for  while  a  part  of  the  plumage  is 
black  as  coal,  the  crown,  sides  of  face,  throat, 
and  breast  are  of  a  most  vivid  flame-color — a 
most  astonishing  combination  of  orange,  black, 
and  white,  and  arranged  in  such  abrupt  juxta- 
position that,  in  seeing  it  for  the  first  time  one 
will  unquestionably  pronounce  it  the  most  glo- 


May 

rious  of  the  warblers.  Its  own  color  ought  to 
suffice  to  keep  it  comfortable  in  the  arctic  zone. 

Along  the  water-courses,  commonly  on  the 
ground,  and  often  wading  in  the  shallows,  one 
will  see  at  this  season  a  little  creature  that  re- 
minds him  of  the  sandpiper  in  its  teetering  mo- 
tions and  aqueous  proclivities,  and  of  a  thrush 
in  its'  olive-brown  back  and  spotted  white 
breast,  yet  it  proves  to  be  another  warbler,  of 
the  same  genus  as  the  oven-bird  already  referred 
to ;  called,  however,  by  reason  of  its  coloring 
and  habits,  the  water- thrush  or  water-wagtail. 
They  are  to  be  seen  here  only  on  their  way 
north.  Deep  in  the  forests  of  northern  New 
England,  and  beyond,  they  find  their  home  along 
the  banks  of  the  streams,  rendering  their  seclu- 
sion most  delightful  by  their  song,  which  is  de- 
scribed as  being  "loud,  clear,  and  exquisitely 
sweet,  beginning  with  a  burst  of  melody  which 
becomes  softer  and  more  delicate  until  the  last 
note  dies  away,  lost  in  the  ripple  of  the  stream, 
above  which  the  birds  are  generally  perched." 

Among  the  rarer  discoveries  in  the  Ramble 
was  that  of  the  gold  en -winged  warbler,  which 
one  morning  led  me,  not  into  forbidden  paths, 
but  on  to  forbidden  grass.  Believing  this  to  be 
an  emergency  wherein  the  law  would  be  more 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


honored  in  the  breach  than  in  the  observance, 
I  looked  neither  to  the  right  hand  nor  to  the 
left,  trusting,  and  not  in  vain,  that  kind  fortune 
would  preserve  me  from  constabulary  inter- 
ference. At  its  best  estate  it  is  only  an  indif- 
ferent singer,  but  it  made  a  full  display  of  its 
physical  charms — the  top  of  the  head  and  large 
patches  on  the  wings  of  rich  yellow,  with  bluish 
back,  jet-black  throat,  and  a  black  stripe  on  the 
side  of  the  face,  bordered  with  white — a  brill- 
iant creature  as  it  fluttered  hither  and  thither, 
either  for  ecstasy  or  for  insects. 

After  such  daintiness  what  could  look  more 
ignoble  than  the  dirty  and  detestable  English 
sparrows?  Imported  from  Europe  to  wage  a 
certain  local  and  vermicular  warfare,  in  the 
estimation  of  competent  judges  the  remedy  has 
proved  infinitely  worse  than  the  malady.  Of 
more  than  doubtful  utility,  but  with  unparalleled 
fecundity  and  audacity,  like  some  contagious 
disease  they  are  spreading  over  the  country, 
to  the  disgust  of  all  who  know  their  worthless, 
impudent,  and  quarrelsome  nature.  Clumsy, 
pugnacious,  coarse-looking  and  coarser -voiced, 
ever  washing  and  never  clean,  making  a  vulgar 
show  of  refinement  by  inveterately  wiping  their 
mouths — which  ceases  to  be  a  virtue  when  it 

156 


May 

becomes  a  habit — unutterably  common  in 
thought  and  deed,  discredited  alike  on  econo- 
mic and  aesthetic  grounds,  what  can  possibly 
be  the  mission  of  these,  the  vilest  of  the  race  ? 


No  bird  name  is  more  familiar  than  that  of 
the  "wren,"  a  familiarity  which  doubtless  is 
largely  due  to  the  prevalence  and  popularity  of 
the  wren  in  England,  where  it  has  received  the 
affectionate  personification  of  "  Jenny  Wren." 
With  us  the  wrens  are  among  the  least  known 
of  the  birds,  on  account  of  their  extreme  shy- 
ness, diminutiveness,  and  plain  coloring,  besides 
the  fact  that  one  of  the  most  important  species 
— the  winter  wren — summers  in  the  far  north. 
Their  chief  excellence  is  their  song,  which  is 
remarkably  vivacious  and  powerful,  but  quite 
indescribable  from  its  rapidity  and  intricacy. 

The  two  principal  species  are  the  "  winter  " 
and  the  "house"  wren,  and  I  occasionally 
found  a  specimen  of  the  latter  during  the 
month.  They  are  exceedingly  alike,  the  plu- 
mage being  "wren-brown,"  with  a  distinctly 
wavy  effect.  The  two  species  are  respectively 
about  four  and  five  inches  in  length,  the  differ- 
ence largely  due  to  the  extent  of  the  tail,  which 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


in  the  winter  wren  is  comically  short,  and 
standing  quite  erect  gives  the  little  creature  a 
peculiarly  pert  and  saucy  air,  which  seemed  to 
Shakespeare  so  salient  a  feature  when  he  alluded 

to 

"  The  wren  with  little  quill." 

There  is  an  electric  suddenness  in  the  motion 
of  a  wren  which  makes  you  suspect  the  identity 
of  the  bird  before  you  clearly  see  it  —  almost 
literally  "as  quick  as  a  flash.  "  It  is  a  specimen 
of  highly  concentrated  nervous  energy,  bottled 
almost  to  bursting,  explosively  relieved  in  ac- 
tion and  song  —  a  bit  of  champagne  with  wings. 
The  winter  wren  is  the  more  northern  species, 
the  house  wren  the  more  southern,  although 
there  is  no  propriety  in  designating  the  latter  as 
a  house  -»vren,  as  it  is  no  more  inclined  to  do- 
mestication than  the  other. 


A  migration-wave  in  the  second  week  brought 
the  yellow  -throated  vireos,  the  chestnut-sided 
warblers  (male  and  female),  another  thrush  — 
the  olive-backed  —  the  blue-winged  yellow  war- 
bler, and  the  indigo-bird.  By  the  middle  of 
the  month  our  constant  winter  friends,  the 
white-throated  sparrows,  had  become  a  thing  a' 

'58 


HOUSE    WRENS 


May 

the  past,  as  also  the  snow-birds ;  the  hermit 
thrush,  too,  had  gone  north,  but  in  a  sense  the 
wood  thrush  took  its  place,  and  has  now  begun  to 
sing — the  queen  of  song  for  the  remainder  of  the 
season.  The  superabundant  yellow-rumps  have 
slipped  away  until  hardly  one  is  left.  For  the 
past  week  there  has  been  hardly  anything  but 
females  to  be  seen  of  this  species,  and  they  suf- 
fer as  painfully  as  any  of  their  kind  from  the 
general  law  compelling  the  gentler  sex  to  be  the 
dull  and  bleached-out  specimens  that  they  are. 
In  favor  of  this  ruling  of  Providence  it  must  be 
confessed  that  their  more  neutral  tints,  in  mak- 
ing them  less  conspicuous,  are  a  safeguard  from 
many  dangers  ;  and  this,  especially  in  the  nesting 
season,  conduces  materially  to  the  perpetuation 
of  the  class.  But  the  arrangement  reverses 
some  of  the  notions  of  propriety  that  obtain  in 
the  human  race,  and  makes  perfect  dudes  of 
some  of  the  males. 

Lest  any  reader  should  weary  of  the  repeated 
allusions  to  the  warblers,  it  is  well  for  him  to 
be  assured  that  there  is  no  such  monotony  in 
discovering  them.  With  all  their  resemblances 
to  each  other  they  are  in  so  many  ways  distinct, 
that  each  new  discovery  in  this  family  is  as  pleas- 
urable a  surprise  as  if  it  belonged  to  some  other 

1S9 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


group.  So  that  one  is  hardly  aware,  until  his 
attention  is  called  to  the  fact,  that  about  a 
third  of  all  the  song-birds  he  is  likely  to  see 
are  warblers. 

The  genus  to  which  the  elegant  "  hooded  " 
warbler  belongs  contains  two  other  species  that 
deserve  a  word  of  mention — the  black-capped 
"flycatcher"  (or  Wilson's  flycatcher)  and  the 
Canada  "  flycatcher  " — as  truly  warblers  as  the 
others,  but  called  flycatchers  because  so  much 
addicted  to  seizing  insects  on  the  wing.  These 
two  made  more  impression  on  my  own  mind 
because,  being  in  the  same  genus  and  coming 
at  the  same  time,  I  took  quite  a  dislike  to  the 
"  black-cap,"  and  an  equal  fancy  to  the  other. 
There  is  something  in  the  appearance  of  the 
"Wilson"  that  seems  malign,  and  every  time 
I  saw  it  there  was  the  same  faint  suggestion  of 
repulsiveness.  No  other  bird  has  given  me  any 
such  impression.  If  any  other  person  has  had 
the  same  feeling  he  will  understand  it ;  if  not, 
no  amount  of  argument  could  make  it  seem 
otherwise  than  utterly  whimsical.  Certainly  its 
coloring  seems  innocent  enough — olive  above, 
yellow  beneath,  and  top  of  the  head  black.  I 
would  do  him  no  injustice,  but  I  suspect  there 
is  something  questionable  about  him. 
160 


May 

But  one  of  the  most  delightful  warblers  in 
every  way  is  the  "  Canada."  First,  its  form  is 
noticeable,  being  unusually  slender  and  grace- 
ful, and  the  coloring  rich  and  peculiar — ashen 
blue  above,  bright  yellow  beneath,  with  the 
throat  encircled  by  a  black  cord,  fringed  be- 
low with  black  spots,  looking  like  a  broad 
necklace  of  jet  suspended  from  the  neck.  Its 
song,  too,  is  luscious  and  vivacious,  and  quite 
distinct  from  all  other  war  bier -music.  (It  is 
chiefly  the  male  sex  that  parades  the  necklace.) 

I  am  glad  to  speak  in  such  unqualified  praise 
of  the  Canada  flycatcher,  for  the  next  speci- 
men candor  compels  me  slightly  to  disparage, 
having  the  same  "  just-out-of-the-band-box  " 
appearance  that  is  noticeable  in  a  stuffed  speci- 
men of  the  species.  This  is  the  yellow -breasted 
chat,  so  extremely  spick  and  span  as  to  pro- 
duce the  impression  that  there  is  little  below 
the  surface.  Those  who  know  the  bird  better 
will  doubtless  resent  this  imputation,  for  its 
manceuvrings  and  vocalization  are  said  to  be 
quite  original ;  but  there  is  something  very 
sleek  and  expressionless  in  its  dress  and  manner 
during  migration.  Above,  it  is  bright  olive- 
green,  throat  arid  breast  rich  yellow,  and  it  is 
about  seven  inches  long.  Science  is  in  doubt 
161 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


where  to  put  the  chat,  and  pending  the  deter- 
mination of  its  status  it  is  regarded  as  a  warbler. 
The  next  two  species  introduce  us  to  another 
family — the  vireo  or  greenlet  family,  peculiar 
to  America,  where  there  are  about  sixty  well- 
defined  species,  although  North  America  con- 
tains only  sixteen  of  them.  They  are  small 
insectivorous  birds,  much  like  the  warblers  in 
general  habits,  and  the  grounds  of  their  special 
grouping  do  not  appeal  to  the  field  ornitholo- 
gist. The  name  is  suggested  from  the  prevail- 
ing greenish-olive  tint,  at  least  of  the  upper 
side  of  the  bird,  the  lower  side  being  white,  or 
shaded  with  olive  or  yellow.  Plainly  colored 
as  a  class,  the  bright  song  of  several  of  the 
species  makes  them  quite  as  attractive  as  many 
of  the  warblers.  I  cannot  forbear  to  quote  the 
appreciative  words  of  Mr.  Elliott  Coues  in  his 
"  Key  to  North  American  Birds,"  in  reference 
to  this  family.  He  says,  "  Next  after  the  war- 
blers the  greenlets  are  the  most  delightful  of 
our  forest  birds,  though  their  charms  address 
the  ear  and  not  the  eye.  Clad  in  simple  tints 
that  harmonize  with  the  verdure,  these  gentle 
songsters  warble  their  lays  unseen,  while  the 
foliage  itself  seems  stirred  to  music.  In  the 
quaint  and  curious  ditty  of  the  white-eye — in 
162 


May 

the  earnest,  voluble  strain  of  the  red-eye — in 
the  tender  secret  that  the  warbling  vireo  con- 
fides in  whispers  to  the  passing  breeze — he  is 
insensible  who  does  not  hear  the  echo  of 
thoughts  he  never  clothes  in  words. ' ' 

The  two  that  arrived  at  this  time  were  the 
red-eyed  and  the  warbling  vireos,  the  two  most 
abundant  and  most  popular  species. 

At  this  time  I  noted  the  arrival  of  one  of  the 
more  famous  finch  songsters.  In  one  of  my 
walks  I  caught  sight  of  a  large  bird  (compara- 
tively, for  my  eyes  had  been  full  of  warblers 
during  the  preceding  days),  characterized  by 
unusual  black  and  white  markings.  With  dif- 
ficulty I  followed  it  through  the  trees,  and  as  it 
perched  and  graciously  turned  toward  me,  I  saw 
a  large  crimson  patch  on  the  breast,  beautiful  of 
itself,  and  doubly  so  to  me  as  the  mark  of  a  bird 
I  had  never  been  able  to  see  before,  but  of  great 
reputation  —  the  rose  -  breasted  grosbeak,  one 
of  the  handsomest  and  most  musical  of  the  fam- 
ily. It  was  in  its  mature  and  richest  plumage, 
and  as  it  hopped  from  branch  to  branch,  feeding 
upon  the  pendant  catkins,  it  kept  up  a  contin- 
uous warble,  which  might  be  described  as  the 
combination  of  the  songs  of  a  rich-voiced  robin 
and  of  the  goldfinch.  Some  writer  has  said 

163 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


that  it  is  always  a  red-letter  day  to  the  ornithol- 
ogist when  he  discovers  a  new  species,  and  it 
is  eminently  so  when  his  discovery  is  so  notable 
a  specimen  as  the  rose-breasted  grosbeak.  This 
is  one  of  the  exceptional  instances  of  rare  vocal 
accomplishments  combined  with  great  beauty. 
It  remained  so  long  at  the  place,  that  at  last  I 
really  wished  it  would  go  away,  feeling  that  it 
would  be  wrong  for  me  to  forego  the  opportu- 
nity of  watching  it  as  long  as  it  remained.  Not 
being  gregarious  they  are  less  likely  to  be  found 
than  many  other  species.  The  female  dresses 
plainly,  and  is  remarkably  silent,  all  things  con- 
sidered. 

Two  more  warblers — the  blue-winged  yellow, 
and  the  Nashville — here  only  for  a  few  days, 
and  without  special  characteristics  that  were  ob- 
servable, are  to  be  added  to  the  list ;  and  at  this 
time  also  the  pewee  made  his  first  lament  of  the 
season  ;  the  red-eyed  vireo,  too,  began  singing, 
while  over  the  Lake,  day  after  day,  were  cours- 
ing a  flock  of  chimney  swifts  (not  swallows  at 
all,  say  the  books).  Of  the  fifty  species  of  swifts 
found  in  the  temperate  and  warmer  parts  of  the 
world,  only  four  are  in  North  America.  They 
are  well  named  "swifts,"  as  they  are  not  sur- 
passed and  are  rarely  equalled,  by  any  other  birds 

164 


ROSE-BREASTED    GROSBEAK 


May 

in  their  powers  of  flight,  sometimes  covering  a 
thousand  miles  in  twenty-four  hours,  and  never 
resting,  it  is  said,  except  in  their  roosting-places 
(chimneys  or  hollow  trees),  where  they  do  not 
perch,  but  cling  to  the  walls,  partially  supported 
by  their  stiff  tail.  In  flight  they  can  be  distin- 
guished from  the  true  swallows  by  the  apparent 
absence  of  a  tail,  it  being  extremely  short.  They 
live  upon  such  insects  as  are  to  be  caught  on  the 
wing,  and  one  might  infer  that  they  had  con- 
tracted their  sooty-brown  color  by  contact  with 
chimneys  for  several  generations,  until  it  be- 
came ingrained. 

The  last  great  "wave"  of  the  season  came 
on  the  22d,  bringing  only  a  single  new  species 
— the  bay-breasted  warbler ;  but  for  a  time  the 
woods  were  full  of  the  Canada,  black-poll, 
Blackburnian,  magnolia,  Wilson,  black-throated 
green,  summer-yellow,  Maryland  yellow-throat, 
wagtail,  redstart,  and  black-and-white  creep- 
ing warblers. 

Of  the  twenty-four  warblers  that  I  found  in 
the  Ramble  this  spring,  more  than  a  passing 
word  is  due  to  the  "chestnut-sided,"  as  it  is 
very  prettily  and  curiously  marked  with  chest- 
nut, yellow,  white,  and  black — the  chestnut 
conspicuous  on  each  side  of  the  breast,  and  the 

'65 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


yellow  on  the  top  of  the  head.  It  became  very 
abundant,  and  I  occasionally  heard  its  music, 
which,  if  it  be  its  full  song,  is  hardly  distin- 
guishable from  the  vigorous  note  of  the  red- 
start. It  often  happens  that  the  migrants  are 
not  heard  in  full  song  while  on  their  travels,  so 
that  one  who  meets  them  only  during  that  period 
is  unable  to  judge  adequately  of  their  vocal 
power. 

The  altitude  of  the  "  chestnut  -sided  "  from 
the  ground  is  greater  than  that  of  most  of  the 
warblers,  being  often  found  among  the  topmost 
branches  of  tall  trees,  like  the  yellow-rumps — 
suggesting  the  remark  that  in  the  case  of  most 
birds  it  is  quite  as  necessary  to  know  the  mark- 
ings on  the  under  side  of  the  body  as  those  on 
the  back,  as  they  are  habitually  found  higher 
than  one's  head.  In  general  the  characteristic 
marks  are  on  the  head  (top  and  side),  throat, 
and  breast. 

The  knowledge  one  can  gain  of  any  bird 
during  May  is  necessarily  meagre,  as  all  the  facts 
pertaining  to  nidification,  and  very  often  an 
acquaintance  with  their  songs,  must  be  gathered 
at  another  time.  But  during  the  month  one 
can  obtain  in  the  Ramble — and  in  all  other 
favorable  localities — at  least  an  intelligent  and 
166 


May 

very  interesting  introduction  to  more  than  sixty 
species,  representing  many  types  of  land  birds, 
and  some  of  the  water  fowl,  which  will  serve  as 
the  basis  of  further  study  under  other  circum- 
stances, and  perhaps  in  widely  remote  places. 


167 


June 


1  And  hark  how  blithe  the  throstle  sings ! 
He,  too,  is  no  mean  preacher." 

Wordsworth. 


JUNE 

[VERY  field  ornithologist  has  more 
or  less  of  an  ambition  to  beat  his 
own  record  (and  everyone's  else), 
in  the  number  of  species  he  has 
found  in  a  given  time  or  in  a  certain  locality. 
It  is  quite  useless  to  ridicule  or  ignore  this  im- 
pulse, which  is  sometimes  violent  enough  to  be 
properly  called  a  distemper.  It  is  involved  in 
his  system  as  constitutionally  as  ever  measles  or 
mumps  were  imbedded  in  his  body — with  the 
difference,  however,  that  having  once  "  broken 
out,"  it  is  extremely  doubtful  whether  he  ever 
fully  recovers  from  it.  However  one  may  smile 
at  the  sometimes  childish  aspect  of  such  an  am- 
bition, he  will  do  well  to  avoid  a  too  contempt- 
uous tone  in  speaking  of  it,  for  the  same  trait, 
in  some  one  of  its  thousand  manifestations,  is 
discernible  in  every  mind,  and  is  essentially 
that  propensity  to  which  the  world  is  chiefly 
indebted  for  all  its  advancement  in  the  arts  and 
sciences. 

171 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


The  sentiment  of  ambition,  in  the  abstract, 
is  regarded  as  a  most  laudable  instinct,  but 
when  the  various  impelling  motives  are  stated 
in  clear  detail,  most  of  them  will  shrink  from 
close  scrutiny.  Even  to  surpass  one's  self  is 
not  an  ideal  motive,  and  still  less  to  surpass 
one's  neighbor,  which  is  the  essence  of  emula- 
tion. It  is  ungrateful  for  the  steam  in  the 
boiler  to  make  slighting  remarks  about  the  kind 
of  coal  that  goes  into  the  furnace,  and  yet  it  is 
curious,  all  the  same,  to  watch  the  ornitholo- 
gist who  is  under  the  spell  of  this  numerical 
craze,  who  finds  that  everything  feathered, 
from  a  hawk  to  a  humming-bird,  is  grist  for  his 
hopper.  He  needs  to  know  nothing  about  the 
habits  or  the  habitat  of  the  bird — and  for  the 
time  being  perhaps  cares  nothing — while  a  sin- 
gle view  of  it  is  just  as  good  as  a  thousand ; 
when  he  has  had  one  full  look  at  it — or,  with 
a  lack  of  conscience,  half  a  look — he  has,  so  to 
speak,  bagged  his  game,  added  a  new  name  to 
his  list,  and  is  inexpressibly  happy.  This  fever 
is  at  its  height  in  May,  and  as  the  migrants 
must  be  caught  on  the  wing,  as  it  were,  he  can- 
not stop  fully  to  enjoy  anything  he  sees,  for  fear 
that  in  the  meantime  something  else  will  escape 
him.  After  the  migrations  are  over — that  is, 

172 


June 

about  the  first  or  second  week  in  June — the 
fever  abates  (with  a  slight  relapse  in  the  fall 
months),  and  recovering  his  mental  equipoise 
he  will,  if  a  true  ornithologist,  sit  down  com- 
fortably for  a  time,  and  with  fewer  of  his  winged 
friends  around  him,  derive  a  deeper  satisfaction 
in  the  cultivation  of  a  closer  acquaintance. 
He  then  realizes,  for  a  full  enjoyment  of  the 
finest  aspects  of  nature,  and  to  come  into 
closest  sympathy  with  all  its  life,  how  indispen- 
sable is  a  spirit  of  leisure  liness,  which  has  such 
an  absorbent  quality.  Only  in  this  way,  which 
in  regard  to  some  species  of  creation  may  mean 
years  of  patient  observation,  can  one  arrive  at 
anything  like  an  adequate  knowledge  of  the 
higher  forms  of  animal  life,  with  their  manifold 
instincts  and  countless  diversities. 


Two  of  the  migrants,  still  lingering  into 
June,  deserve  a  special  word.  A  fine,  insect- 
like  sound,  soft,  and  yet  seeming  to  pervade  the 
air,  so  that  it  was  impossible  to  locate  it,  one 
afternoon  apprised  me  of  a  probable  new-comer. 
There  were  still  a  few  species  due  and  overdue, 
and  this  unfamiliar  sound  was  probably  from 
one  of  them.  Endeavoring  to  locate  it,  I  went 

173 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


backward  and  forward,  the  same  pervading, 
directionless  sound  constantly  coming  to  my 
ears,  until  I  was  in  despair,  when  I  chanced  to 
look  upward,  and  saw  a  little  specimen,  too 
distant  to  identify,  hopping  from  branch  to 
branch.  As  he  gradually  descended  I  brought 
my  glass  to  bear  on  his  head — the  most  vul- 
nerable point  of  attack  in  such  a  hunt — and 
detected  a  black  cap  covering  the  top  of  his 
head  and  reaching  below  the  eyes — the  very 
fellow  I  had  been  seeking  for  more  than  a  week 
— the  black-poll  warbler ;  not  a  notable  beauty, 
but  daintly  attired  in  olive;  darkly  streaked 
above,  and  mostly  white  beneath,  while  the 
glossy  "cap"  is  a  conspicuous  article  of  dress 
— a  decoration,  it  hardly  needs  to  be  observed, 
that  is  monopolized  by  the  males,  the  females 
being  either  obliged  or  content  to  go  bare- 
headed. 

The  indifferent  observer  might  mistake  this 
for  the  black-and-white  creeper,  which  it  some- 
what resembles  in  color ;  but  the  black-poll 
carries  himself  very  differently,  not  having  the 
restless  manner  of  running  about,  and  the  in- 
quisitive examination  of  the  under  side  of  every- 
thing, that  characterize  the  creeper.  The  song 
of  the  black-poll  is  weak,  as  if  he  had  such  a 


June 

cold  as  to  be  almost  inaudible,  and  monot- 
onous, while  that  of  the  creeper  is  much  louder 
and  more  varied. 

The  last  migrant  of  the  season — the  bay- 
breasted  warbler — is  one  of  the  few  that  are 
said  to  have  the  peculiarity  of  adopting  one 
route  in  the  spring,  and  another  in  the  fall 
migrations.  According  to  one  writer,  "Avoid- 
ing the  Eastern  and  Middle  States,  the  majority 
pass  along  the  borders  of  the  Great  Lakes, 
through  Ohio,  southern  Illinois,  down  the 
Mississippi  Valley,  across  into  Texas,  and  so 
on  into  Mexico  and  Central  America,  where 
they  winter.  Returning  in  spring  they  pursue 
a  more  eastern  route,  keeping  along  the  coast 
as  far  as  the  New  England  States,  where  they 
ascend  the  Connecticut  Valley,  generally  avoid- 
ing eastern  Massachusetts." 

In  other  respects  there  is  little  to  be  said  of 
this  warbler.  To  be  fully  appreciated,  it  should 
have  been  one  of  the  earliest  instead  of  the  latest 
to  arrive,  for  with  all  its  brilliant  predecessors 
in  mind,  it  can  scarcely  be  called  a  handsome 
bird,  with  its  prevailing  colors  of  chestnut, 
black,  and  white ;  but  at  least  it  "  counts  one  " 
in  the  list,  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  it  gives  one  a 
comfortable  feeling  to  read  that  it  is  quite  rare 

i75 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


in  some  portions  of  its  general  route  ;  so  that  a 
pleasure  which  the  sight  of  its  chestnut  breast 
could  not  give,  is  imparted  by  the  fact  that 
some  of  my  neighbors  cannot  see  it  at  all. 
This  may  be  a  villainous  sort  of  delight,  but 
the  odium  of  such  unmitigated  selfishness  be- 
longs equally  to  every  class  of  naturalists,  and, 
in  extenuation  of  their  fault,  it  may  truly  be 
urged  that  naturalists  are  no  worse  than  all  oth- 
ers, as  this  trait  of  depravity  is  not  generated, 
but  only  brought  to  the  surface,  by  natural  re- 
search. 

When  birds  are  located  for  the  summer  there 
is  little  fluctuation  from  day  to  day  in  numbers 
and  varieties  at  a  given  place.  But  with  the 
incoming  and  outgoing  tides  of  spring  and  fall, 
a  few  hours  will  often  make  a  great  difference. 
One  day  a  particular  area  may  be  quite  deserted, 
and  the  very  next  every  tree  and  bush  may  be 
alive  with  birds.  Thus  the  bay-breasted  came 
in  large  numbers  one  morning,  and  in  a  few 
hours  quite  disappeared  ;  evidently  for  the  most 
part  males,  from  their  full  plumage,  although 
among  the  number  I  observed  one  very  dilapi- 
dated looking  specimen,  which  I  take  it  had  the 
honor  of  being  a  female. 

One  of  the  least  considered,  but  most  wonder - 
176 


June 

ful,  aspects  of  a  bird  is  the  instinct  controlling 
its  migrations,  together  with  its  power  of  com- 
munication with  its  fellows.  What  a  marvel- 
lous ability  these  voyagers  have,  who,  without 
a  chart,  and  with  the  light  neither  of  sun  nor 
moon  nor  star  to  guide  them,  know  how  to  find 
their  way  unerringly  through  trackless  space. 
It  gives  one  a  strange  feeling,  to  wake  in  the 
dead  of  night  and  think  of  and  occasionally 
hear  the  thousands  of  kinglets,  red-polls,  pine- 
creepers  and  black-throated  greens,  with  others 
large  and  small,  pursuing  their  weird  flight 
over  his  head.  By  what  language  do  they 
signal  their  gathering  together  for  the  long 
journey  in  spring  ?  And  when  the  movement 
is  begun,  is  each  a  law  unto  himself,  or  do 
they  elect  a  leader,  and  how  is  it  done?  Or, 
when  they  stop  here  and  there  for  rest,  what 
determines  the  resumption  of  the  journey  ? 
And  at  the  close  of  summer,  when  their 
thoughts  turn  southward,  how  is  the  rendez- 
vous appointed  from  which  the  host  is  to  re- 
turn to  a  warmer  clime  ? 

"  Who  bids  the  stork,  Columbus-like,  explore 

Heavens  not  his  own,  and  worlds  unknown  before  ? 
Who  calls  the  council,  states  the  certain  day  ? 
Who  forms  the  phalanx,  and  who  points  the  way  ?  " 

177 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


Are  these  creatures  possibly  endowed  with 
a  "sixth  sense,"  or  with  a  faculty  of  commu- 
nication not  dreamed  of  by  those  who  are  so 
proud  of  the  possession  of  "  intelligence,"  rath- 
er than  what  they  contemptuously  call  ' '  mere 
instinct?"  Really,  we  human  beings  flatter 
ourselves  quite ,  too  much  ;  and,  moreover,  our 
very  familiarity  with  the  many  wonderful  man- 
ifestations of  instinct  all  about  us  breeds  a 
contempt  therefor  that  discounts  our  own  intel- 
ligence, and  causes  us  to  fall  into  still  greater 
condemnation  ;  for  surely  no  charge  more  seri- 
ous can  be  brought  against  the  supremacy  of 
man's  reasoning  powers  than  the  fact  that  the 
mere  prevalence  of  anything  inexplicable,  so  far 
from  increasing  our  wonderment  thereat,  invari- 
ably reduces  it  to  a  minimum,  eventually  be- 
coming a  sort  of  reason  for  eliminating  all  sense 
of  mystery.  In  other  words,  a  marvellous  ex- 
hibition of  the  Creator's  wisdom  and  power 
evokes  a  thousand  times  less  of  admiration  when 
the  display  is  a  thousand  times  repeated.  Where 
does  the  instinct  of  the  "lower"  animals  lead 
to  any  such  foolishness  as  this? 

» 

The  classification  of  objects  in  natural  science 
is  a  recognition  of  the  two  diametrically  op- 

178 


June 

posed  principles  underlying  creation,  viz. :  repe- 
tition and  change — unity  and  variety.  Sys- 
tematic science  would  be  impossible  if  these 
two  principles  were  not  simultaneously  operant, 
and  intelligent  creation  is  hardly  conceivable 
along  any  other  lines.  Variation  alone  is 
heterogeneous,  repetition  alone  is  monotonous, 
and  there  could  be  no  such  thing  as  classifica- 
tion of  objects  if  they  did  not  show  grounds  for 
being  both  conjoined  and  disjoined.  These 
two  principles  may  be  likened  to  centripetal 
and  centrifugal  forces,  the  one  seeking  uniform- 
ity, the  other,  change  ;  and  by  their  combined 
operation  objects  show  at  the  same  time  simi- 
larity and  individuality,  while  in  the  recogni- 
tion of  a  single  type  under  several  forms,  which 
is  the  resultant,  the  naturalist  derives  additional 
satisfaction  in  studying  his  specimens.  Thus 
there  is  a  pleasure  in  finding  a  second  species  of 
a  thrush,  or  of  a  woodpecker,  which  a  single 
species  can  never  give,  for  it  is  a  new  disclosure 
of  the  intelligent  scheme  in  creation,  whose  car- 
dinal principle  is,  permanence  in  modification. 
This  atmosphere  of  relationship  in  which  we 
thus  look  at  every  flower,  and  bird,  and  insect, 
gives  a  zest  to  our  enjoyment  of  even  their 
specific  qualities,  such  as  we  seldom  stop  to 


The  Birds'  Calendar 

realize.  In  this  view  of  the  case  the  naturalist, 
with  each  fresh  discovery,  brings  out  of  the 
storehouse  of  nature  a  treasure  that  is  both  new 
and  old. 


The  spirit  of  gayety,  so  evidently  animating 
the  great  majority  of  our  woodland  birds,  is  as 
strikingly  and  almost  pathetically  absent  from 
one  of  the  families  —  the  flycatchers.  The 
longer  one  studies  them,  the  more  he  is  im- 
pressed by  their  strange  temperament.  They 
are  not  only  very  quiet,  as  compared  with  their 
fellows,  but  their  mood  seems  to  be  distinctively 
a  gloomy  one,  as  if  constantly  living  under  the 
shadow  of  sorrow.  Whether  this  is  so  apparent 
in  the  tropical  species  I  do  not  know,  but  it  is 
a  prevalent  trait  in  the  northern  varieties.  It 
is  a  solitary,  and  for  the  most  part  silent,  bird, 
that  seems  to  be  out  of  touch  with  its  surround- 
ings, and  yet  not  uninteresting  to  the  observer, 
for  it  is  punctiliously  neat  in  appearance,  pict- 
uresque in  pose  and  motion,  and  its  melancholy 
doth  become  it  well. 

One  species,  even  more  of  a  recluse  than  his 
kindred,  and  the  largest  of  this  region,  is  the 
great  crested  flycatcher,  commonly  seen  high 

180 


June 

in  a  tree,  and  more  brightly  colored  than  his 
fellows  with  a  sulphurous- yellow  breast,  and 
tail-feathers  largely  chestnut.  It  is  so  shy  that 
it  commonly  makes  off  the  instant  one  ap- 
proaches it,  and,  although  apparently  sluggish 
as  seen  in  repose,  it  is  extremely  quick  and 
dexterous  as  it  darts  forth  to  secure  the  help- 
less insect  that  falls  in  its  way.  An  unex- 
plained and  not  very  winsome  peculiarity  of 
this  bird  is,  that  almost  invariably  its  nest  is, 
in  part,  composed  of  cast-off  snake  skins ; 
doubtless  for  a  good  reason.  Science  would 
hardly  be  worth  the  study  if  it  were  a  mere 
collection  of  irrational,  capricious  facts.  But 
whatever  path  one  may  follow  in  nature,  he  is 
sure  to  start  up  inquiries  so  much  faster  than  he 
solves  them  that,  after  all,  the  wisest  scientist 
is  he  whose  head  is  the  most  filled  with  un- 
answered questions. 

Another  inquiry  suggested  by  the  flycatchers 
is,  the  purpose  served  by  that  peculiarity  com- 
mon to  all  of  this  family,  and  quite  rare  in  all 
the  others — the  more  or  less  erectile  crown- 
feathers,  and  whether  there  is  any  relation 
between  this  singularity  and  their  distinctive 
habits.  Unless  we  regard  many  of  such  pecul- 
iar details  as  arbitrary  and  hap-hazard,  which 
181 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


seems  an  unreasonable  assumption,  there  must 
be  numerous  adaptations  of  structure  to  life, 
and  much  significance  of  coloring,  too,  in  the 
animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms,  which  we  do 
not  dream  of  as  yet.  If  everything  in  nature 
is  reasonable,  and  the  definition  of  beauty  be 
true,  that  it  is  "Reason  expressed  in  form," 
then  the  monstrous  bill  of  the  pelican,  the 
excrescence  of  the  marabou  stork,  and  the 
hump  of  the  camel  must  challenge  our  exceed- 
ing admiration. 

The  most  familiar  of  this  secluded  family,  at 
least  as  regards  the  sound  of  its  voice,  is  the 
wood  pewee,  that  utters  its  plaintive,  upward- 
inflected  note  throughout  the  day,  and  even 
quite  far  into  the  night,  in  the  lonely  woods. 
Its  olive-brown  back  and  dingy- white  breast 
do  not  make  it  a  conspicuous  object,  so  that  it 
is  much  oftener  heard  than  seen  ;  and  yet  it  is 
not  difficult  to  find  it,  as  it  will  remain  a  long 
time  in  one  spot,  at  short  intervals  repeating  its 
sigh,  and  it  is  not  so  timid  as  to  withdraw 
itself  hastily  when  one  approaches  it. 

There  is  a  delicious  sadness  in  this  note  of 

the  pewee,  like  a  minor  chord  interposed  in 

the  predominating  jubilant  major  strains  of  the 

forest  choir.     It  voices  the  spirit  of  silent  and 

182 


June 

gloomy  woods.  A  plaintive  effect  is  very  rare 
among  the  song-birds,  which  are  so  generally 
keyed  to  merriment.  The  goldfinch  has  an 
evident  touch  of  it,  recurring  now  and  then  in 
a  song  that  is  otherwise  joyous  and  like  rippling 
laughter.  One  of  the  charms  of  the  fox  spar- 
row, too,  is  a  subtle  quality  of  mournfulness 
tingeing  a  melody  that  is  cheerful,  if  not  joyous. 
But  the  pewee's  note  is  like  a  faint,  despairing 
cry,  not  so  desperate  as  to  agonize  the  listener, 
and  yet  appealing  strongly  to  his  sympathies. 
It  appears  to  be  the  most  disconsolate  of  all 
the  family,  the  victim  of  chronic  melancholia. 
What  a  contrast  to  the  hilarious  disposition  of 
the  ruby-crowned  kinglet  and  the  chickadee, 
that  bubble  over  with  songful  laughter  ! 

If  the  appeal  of  the  sorrowing  pewee  can 
haunt  one  in  the  daytime,  infusing  a  shadow 
into  the  sunlight,  how  much  more  potent  its 
effect  when  heard  in  the  congenial  twilight. 
One  day  at  sundown  I  wandered  through  some 
woods  that  were  filled  with  the  songs  of  birds. 
It  almost  seemed  that  Nature  was  devout,  and 
this,  her  vesper-service ;  and  as  the  strain  of 
the  cheery  song  sparrow,  the  noble  and  mel- 
low carol  of  the  robin,  and  the  strangely  rich 
and  liquid  tones  of  the  wood  thrush,  one  by 

183 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


one  dropped  out  of  the  air,  leaving  the  forest 
to  the  solemn  stillness  of  the  night,  there 
sounded  last  of  all,  out  of  the  gathering 
gloom,  the  distant,  sad  refrain  of  the  pewee, 
like  a  mournful  "finis"  to  the  day.  It 
seemed  the  essence  of  darkness  transmuted 
into  song. 

& 

It  is  interesting  to  note  how  every  physical 
condition  of  the  globe  peculiarly  fosters  its  own 
forms  of  life.  Heat  and  cold,  moist  and  dry, 
light  and  darkness,  are  each  promotive  of  its 
own  species,  vegetable  and  animal,  for  which 
any  other  condition  would  be  injurious  or  fatal. 
The  edelweiss  flourishes  in  the  arctic  clefts  of 
the  Alps,  the  coral  polyp  deep  beneath  the  ocean, 
the  soil  itself  teems  with  life ;  and  while  in  gen- 
eral sunlight  is  so  essential  to  healthful  vitality, 
yet  darkness  hath  its  charms  as  well,  and  vege- 
tation sometimes  reserves  its  blossoming  for  the 
night,  while  the  setting  sun  is  the  signal  for 
many  a  beast  and  bird,  crawling  reptile  and 
hovering  insect,  to  awake  and  resume  its  daily 
activity. 

While  birds  are  chiefly  diurnal,  a  few,  like 
the  owls,  are  nocturnal,  and  a  few  are  crepus- 

184 


June 

cular  or  twilight  birds — not  altogether  inactive 
during  the  day  (especially  when  it  is  cloudy), 
and  sometimes  roaming  about  very  late  in  the 
evening ;  but  finding  their  most  congenial  pe- 
riod of  activity — which  among  birds  chiefly 
means  foraging  for  food — during  the  short  inter- 
val of  half-light. 

Occasionally  during  the  day,  oftener  at  dusk, 
I  have  seen  or  heard,  as  anyone  in  the  country 
is  likely  to  do  during  the  summer  months,  that 
very  familiar  specimen  of  the  crepuscular  birds, 
but  much  better  known  by  its  sound  than  other- 
wise— the  "  night-hawk."  The  only  excep- 
tions that  can  be  taken  to  the  name  are  that  it 
is  not  a  "  night"  bird,  as  it  flies  about  mostly 
at  dusk,  sometimes  in  midday,  nor  yet  is  it  a 
hawk,  being  called  so  only  from  a  resemblance 
when  on  the  wing,  and  in  its  general  appearance 
at  a  distance.  This  bird  and  the  whippoorwill 
are  allied,  and  resemble  each  other  as  closely  as 
twins,  both  being  just  about  as  large  as  a  rob- 
in, and  "indescribably  variegated  or  mottled 
with  several  quiet  colors. ' '  In  one  the  tail  is 
forked,  in  the  other  rounded,  and  the  night- 
hawk  has  a  white  patch  on  the  wing,  which  is 
lacking  in  the  other.  Otherwise  they  are  well- 
nigh  indistinguishable.  Probably  there  is  not 

185 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


one  in  a  hundred  of  those  who  are  familiar  with 
the  sounds  of  both  these  birds,  who  has  any  idea 
of  their  appearance.  As  regards  the  night-hawk, 
we  may  well  say  sound  instead  of  note,  for  its 
noise  could  hardly  be  called  musical,  even  in  the 
sense  in  which  the  rustling  of  leaves  or  the 
lowing  of  cattle  could  be  so  considered  ;  usually 
the  only  evidence  of  its  presence  is  its  indescrib- 
able squeak,  as  it  flies  hither  and  thither — in- 
visible in  the  dusk  at  the  height  at  which  it 
usually  remains,  its  great  cavernous  mouth  wide 
open  for  catching  the  insects  on  which  it  chiefly 
subsists.  It  can  sometimes  be  seen  in  the  day- 
time, but  the  sound  it  commonly  makes,  as  well 
as  the  strange  "booming"  when  it  suddenly 
drops  from  a  great  height,  the  production  of 
which  is  not  understood,  are  rarely  heard  save 
in  the  twilight. 

The  night-hawk  is  among  the  few  of  the  land 
birds  that  make  little  or  no  pretence  at  nest- 
building,  although  many  among  the  water  fowl 
show  an  equal  want  of  skill  or  interest  in  this 
matter.  In  general  among  land  birds,  the  larger 
the  bird  the  more  clumsy  is  the  nest,  and  this 
results  not  altogether  from  the  coarser  materials 
necessarily  used,  but  in  many  cases  from  an  evi- 
dent lack  of  the  sense  of  artistic  workmanship. 
186 


NIGHT-HAWK 


June 

The  night-hawk  deposits  its  eggs  sometimes  on 
the  ground,  with  perhaps  the  rudest  outline  of 
a  nest  in  coarse  twigs,  sometimes  on  the  bare 
rock,  and  they  have  even  been  found  on  the 
concrete  roofs  of  city  houses.  This  gives  rise  to 
the  suspicion  of  a  culpable  lack  of  domestic  zeal, 
but  possibly  such  judgment  should  be  modified 
in  the  light  of  the  attendant  circumstance,  that 
the  chicks  are  not  born  in  the  unprotected  con- 
dition of  most  birdlings,  but  when  they  come 
out  of  the  shell  they  are  downy,  and  densely  so 
on  the  under  side,  which  is  an  offset  to  the  lack 
of  nest-protection.  According  to  the  Darwin- 
ian scheme  of  development  this  is  a  significant 
conjunction  of  facts,  but  it  does  not  necessarily 
settle  the  case  in  favor  of  the  ' '  hawk. ' '  Did 
nature  first  provide  the  thick  down,  and  the 
birds,  observing  the  fact  and  taking  counsel  to- 
gether, conclude  that  under  the  circumstances 
it  would  be  a  waste  of  time  and  energy  to  fash- 
ion anything  elaborate  ?  Or  shall  we  suppose 
that  from  time  immemorial  these  birds  were 
too  lazy  to  treat  their  offspring  in  a  proper  pa- 
rental manner,  and  that  then  nature  rose  to  the 
occasion,  by  struggling  up  into  a  protective 
down  ?  As  it  is  improbable,  according  to  Dar- 
win, that  the  two  facts  were  originally  synchro- 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


nous,  which  shall  we  consider  the  cause,  and 
which  the  effect  ?  The  credit  of  the  species 
seriously  depends  upon  the  answer.  The  fact 
that  they  show  great  courage  and  fidelity  in  the 
defence  of  their  offspring  when  danger  threatens, 
makes  it  a  reasonable  inference  that  they  can 
only  be  charged  with  being  practical  rather 
than  sentimental. 

The  latest  lingering  migrant  among  the 
thrushes  was  the  "olive-backed,"  the  least  at- 
tractive of  all  the  thrushes  in  appearance,  being 
of  a  uniform  and  dull  olive  color  on  the  back. 
It  did  not  finally  disappear  till  the  second 
week  in  June,  and  during  the  last  week  in  May 
it  was  the  commonest  bird  in  the  Park,  not 
even  excepting  the  robin.  In  the  Ramble  I 
could  hardly  go  ten  feet  without  stirring  up  at 
least  one  or  two.  Until  just  previous  to  their 
departure  they  uttered  only  an  occasional  harsh 
call-note,  in  striking  contrast  to  that  of  the 
wood  thrush,  which  is  so  delicious ;  but  three 
or  four  days  before  they  left  I  heard  the  first  ef- 
fort of  song,  not  full-voiced,  but  soft  and  veiled, 
as  is  often  the  case  when  a  species  begins  to  sing 
in  spring. 

The  appearance  of  a  bird  is  positive — you  car? 
tell  the  day  and  hour  ;  its  disappearance  is  neg- 
iSS 


June 

ative.  They  seem  to  steal  away  mysteriously. 
One  day  you  see  several  specimens  of  a  kind 
here  and  there,  and  the  next  day,  not  finding 
any,  you  suppose  that  you  have  overlooked 
them ;  but  on  the  third  day  you  discover  none, 
nor  on  the  fourth,  and  then,  if  it  is  late  in  the 
season,  you  conclude  they  have  gone  and  left 
no  sign.  After  all,  is  not  this  a  pleasanter 
way  to  take  leave  of  a  friend,  than  to  be  con- 
scious that  you  are  seeing  him  for  the  last  time  ? 


189 


July 


Tis  the  summer  prime,  when  the  noiseless  air 

In  perfumed  chalice  lies  ; 
And  the  bee  goes  by  with  a  lazy  hum, 

Beneath  the  sleeping  skies." 

Mrs.  E.  Oakes  Smith. 


JULY 

FLY  and  August  are  the  noontide 
of  the  year's  day,  a  long  "still 
hour ' '  when  the  activities  of  bird- 
life  are  in  a  lull — that  full-tide 
quietness  that  intervenes  before  the  current 
ebbs.  Their  family  cares  are  mostly  over  by 
the  middle  of  July,  their  little  ones  are  already 
more  than  on  their  own  feet,  they  are  on  their 
own  wings,  and  with  that  quick  maturing  that 
characterizes  the  lower  orders  of  life,  a  few 
short  weeks  have  brought  their  instincts  well- 
nigh  to  the  full  development. 

With  other  fortunate  people  the  birds,  after 
their  short  but  arduous  domestic  felicities,  are 
having  a  sort  of  vacation,  albeit  a  rather  quiet 
one,  not  full  of  song  and  merry-making  as 
when  on  their  May  travels  and  in  delightsome 
June,  the  queen  of  all  the  months;  as  if  a 
touch  of  seriousness  had  come  over  their  spirits, 
with  the  sense  that  even  already,  although  the 
sun's  rays  are  as  forceful  for  heat  as  ever,  they 

193 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


have  lost  their  peculiar  springtime  potency — 
he  has  passed  the  meridian,  the  shadows  are 
beginning  to  fall  more  slantingly,  and  the 
year's  maturity  and  decline  draw  on  apace. 
It  is  difficult  to  prove  one's  assertions  or  de- 
nials that  birds  think  this  or  that,  but  it  seems 
most  reasonable  to  accept  their  actions  as  a 
valid  interpreter  of  their  thoughts. 

In  the  quiet  and  desultory  life  they  are  lead- 
ing in  the  coming  weeks,  although  devoid  of 
the  characteristics  displayed  in  migration  and 
nidincation,  one  may  still  study  them  with 
much  interest,  and  with  the  assurance  of  find- 
ing their  individualities  becoming  ever  clearer 
to  his  mind.  If  further  acquaintance  some- 
times reveals  disagreeable  qualities,  we  can 
only  take  things  as  they  are,  for  better  or  for 
worse,  the  bitter  with  the  sweet,  remembering 
that  though  the  thistle  has  its  sting,  it  has  its 
fragrance  too,  and  that  the  better  qualified  any 
class  of  objects  in  nature  is  to  be  a  type  of 
man,  the  more  we  must  expect  to  find  the  re- 
production of  his  evil  traits  as  well  as  of  his 
good  ones. 

This  paves  the  way  for  some  rather  dam- 
aging remarks  concerning  the  catbird,  against 
which  no  overt  act  of  criminality  has  ever 
194 


July 

been  proved,  to  my  present  knowledge,  but 
nevertheless  the  victim  of  very  general  preju- 
dice. He  is  a  younger  and  less  talented  brother 
of  the  mocking-bird  which  flourishes  in  the 
Southern  States,  and  rarely  comes  North  except 
by  constraint.  Perhaps  the  catbird  might  be 
called  his  prodigal  brother,  for  the  evident 
neglect  of  his  musical  education  would  natu- 
rally be  the  result  of  youthful  waywardness. 
At  any  rate  his  talents  are  dissipated,  if  his 
morals  are  not.  But,  not  to  heap  unproved 
accusations  upon  him,  he  unquestionably  has  a 
spiteful  and  suspicious  air,  and  in  his  garb  of 
dark  slate  with  the  black  head-piece  it  is  no 
stretch  of  the  imagination  to  say  that  he  looks 
a  bit  villainous — "gallows-minded,"  in  the 
terse  phrase  of  an  old  poet — and  aptly  typifies 
a  certain  class  of  human  beings,  with  chronic 
hang-dog  air,  against  whom,  while  nothing  vi- 
cious has  ever  actually  been  proved,  you  can 
readily  believe  any  imputation  that  might  be 
suggested.  A  dubious  reputation  is  sometimes 
a  person's  misfortune  rather  than  his  fault,  but 
as  things  are  now,  the  burden  of  proof  seems 
to  rest  on  the  side  of  the  catbird,  and  inno- 
cence seldom  fails  to  vindicate  itself.  But  in- 
stead of  trying  to  do  so,  he  skulks  most  of  the 


The  Birds'  Cal:ndar 


time  in  the  thick  undergrowth,  and  has  a  scared 
and  hunted  look  when  he  comes  out  into  the 
open.  It  is  no  extenuation  of  his  manners  to 
say  that  his  voice  is  a  very  superior  one,  often 
showing  that  peculiar  metallic  quality  conspicu- 
ous in  the  thrushes,  of  whom  he  is  a  distant 
relative;  but  his  song  is  only  a  characterless 
medley,  with  an  occasional  fine  strain  among 
many  inferior  ones.  Once  in  a  great  while  he 
perches  high  and  openly  in  a  tree,  where  he 
sings  so  honestly  and  nobly  that  one  cannot 
fail  to  admire  the  song,  and  to  regret  his  evil 
thoughts  concerning  the  singer.  But  as  he 
chuckles  away  to  himself  deep  in  the  bushes, 
in  his  wonted  manner,  the  former  distrust  of 
him  returns,  and  it  is  easy  to  imagine  that  he 
is  at  his  old  tricks  of  plotting  some  evil  device. 
His  repellent  plumage,  skulking  manner,  and 
disagreeable  feline  notes  are  quite  sufficient  to 
account  for  the  popular  estimate  of  this  bird, 
even  without  more  radical  grounds  for  disap- 
proval. The  thrasher  has  the  same  stealthy 
demeanor,  and  perhaps  escapes  the  same  con- 
demnation only  by  his  more  attractive  plu- 
mage. (Since  writing  the  foregoing,  I  have 
learned  that  the  catbird  does  feloniously  enter 
the  nests  of  other  species,  and  destroys  their 
196 


July 

eggs.  The  circumstantial  evidence  already 
offered  would  almost  have  justified  this  accusa- 
tion. I  knew  he  did  not  wear  that  culprit- 
look  for  nothing.  A  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing 
is  a  common  occurrence,  but  a  saint  never 
wears  a  sinner's  livery.) 

There  are  few  of  our  birds  combining  so 
many  of  the  gifts  and  graces  of  their  kind  as 
the  Baltimore  oriole,  in  showy  array  of  orange, 
black,  and  white,  and  an  excellent  entertainer 
in  song  and  manner.  In  allusion  to  its  appear- 
ance it  is  also  called  ''golden  robin,"  and  "  fire- 
bird," and  from  the  peculiar  pensile  construc- 
tion of  its  nest,  it  gets  the  name  of  "  hang-nest." 
Its  more  popular  name  of  Baltimore  oriole  is  de- 
rived, not  from  the  city  of  that  name,  but  from 
the  Earl  of  Baltimore,  who  became  the  lord  of 
Maryland  in  colonial  days.  His  followers  no- 
ticed the  correspondence  of  the  yellow  and 
black  on  his  heraldic  livery  with  the  coloring  of 
the  bird  which  was  abundant  in  his  new  estates, 
and  it  became  known  as  the  "  Baltimore  bird." 
A  vigorous  manner  commands  admiration  quite 
as  quickly  as  any  other  quality,  and  in  this  re- 
spect the  oriole  is  in  pleasing  contrast  to  the 
scarlet  tanager.  Possessed  of  a  strong  and  ex- 
cellent voice,  it  sings  freely,  and  has  a  delightful 

197 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


repertoire  of  short  songs,  which  from  some 
conspicuous  point  of  a  tree  it  pours  forth,  not 
in  a  spirit  of  vanity,  but  because  it  is  too  full  of 
melody  to  be  restrained.  One  of  its  melodies 
has  a  distinctly  martial  accent.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  the  thrushes,  and  perhaps  of  the  pur- 
ple finch,  it  is  probably  the  most  enjoyable 
songster  one  can  hear  in  this  latitude.  It  has 
an  equally  engaging  manner,  carrying  no  lofty 
airs  like  the  cardinal  grosbeak,  but  coming  down 
to  the  honest,  democratic  basis  of  the  robin. 
Neither  timid  nor  bold,  it  has  the  demeanor  of 
modest  frankness,  and  seems  possessed  of  a  good 
stock  of  that  indefinable  quality  which  in  the 
human  race  is  called  ' '  common  sense, ' '  whose 
existence  cannot  be  controverted  by  the  fact 
that  it  is  generally  difficult  to  designate  the 
specific  act  that  betrays  it. 

With  perhaps  no  sins  of  omission  charged 
against  him,  his  only  transgression  is  a  some- 
what pardonable  fondness  for  fruit  blossoms,  al- 
though in  the  act  of  robbery  he  unquestion- 
ably forms  a  picture  that  is  worth  the  price  of 
the  fruit,  as  in  flaming  plumage  he  sits  on  the 
bough  of  some  tree  that  is  white  with  bloom, 
and  gracefully  drawing  blossom  after  blossom 
toward  him,  deftly  holds  it  with  his  foot  while 


BALTIMORE    ORIOLE   AND    NEST 


July 

he  extracts  the  delectable  morsel.  This  opera- 
tion is  an  undoubted  pleasure  to  him  and  to  the 
spectator,  and  on  a  mercantile  basis  is  to  be 
considered  a  fair  bargain  in  the  equivalence 
of  gratification  and  expense — the  justice  of  the 
argument  being  impaired  only  by  the  fact  that, 
while  the  gratification  is  mine,  the  blossoms 
belong  to  some  one  else. 

I  recall  a  very  pretty  but  not  unusual  scene 
one  day  enacted  by  the  oriole.  It  was  perched 
on  a  limb  overhanging  a  basin  of  water,  and 
from  its  frequent  glances  in  that  direction  I  sur- 
mised it  was  going  to  take  a  bath.  But  it  was 
very  much  afraid  of  being  observed,  and  ner- 
vously turned  its  head  and  peered  in  all  direc- 
tions. Thinking  the  coast  was  clear,  it  at  last 
jumped  down  to  the  brink  of  the  water,  gave 
another  hasty  glance  all  about,  and  then,  shy  as 
Venus,  jumped  in,  dipped  its  golden  plumage 
two  or  three  times,  stepped  to  the  edge,  and 
with  one  more  timid  look,  darted  out  of  sight. 


Of  the  rich  and  variegated  throng  of  warblers 

that  enlivened  every  bush  and  tree  in  May,  but 

few   species   remain,    as  they   mostly   prefer   a 

cooler  climate  or  more  seclusion  than  can  be 

199 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


had  hereabouts.  But  there  is  one  that  is  quite 
abundant  in  all  our  woods,  and  sure  to  attract 
attention  by  his  brilliant  black  and  scarlet  col- 
ors, fearless  and  lively  manner,  and  vigorous  but 
simple  song.  Anyone  familiar  with  the  woods 
in  summer  will  recognize  in  this  the  fiery  little 
redstart — a  name  corrupted  from  redstert,  mean- 
ing red  tail,  this  portion  of  the  plumage  being 
doubly  noticeable  from  the  amount  of  reddish 
yellow  upon  it,  and  from  the  bird's  habit  of 
keeping  it  partly  spread  as  it  moves  from  limb 
to  limb.  The  wings  and  sides  of  the  breast  also 
have  a  dash  of  flame  color,  intensified  by  the 
otherwise  lustrous  black  of  the  male,  whereas 
the  female — well,  she  looks  as  anyone  would  be 
supposed  to  look,  arrayed  in  goods  warranted 
not  to  wash.  If  the  male  redstart  is  a  fiery  coal, 
the  female  is  a  trail  of  ashes  in  his  wake.  Its 
musical  proficiency  is  summed  up  in  a  single 
but  often  reiterated  note,  strong  and  vibrant, 
not  so  sweet  as  that  of  the  summer  yellow  bird, 
but  more  decisive.  The  tone  is  fitly  embodied 
in  the  flaming  plumage  of  the  male,  for  it  cuts 
the  ear  like  fire.  This  bird  has  the  unusual 
habit  of  often  flying  from  trunk  to  trunk,  and 
clinging  to  the  bark,  which  I  have  seen  no  other 
warbler  do  except  the  pine-creeper.  As  it  hops 


July 

about  from  twig  to  twig,  constantly  spreading 
its  tail,  it  has  the  appearance  of  being  on  excel- 
lent terms  with  itself,  and  of  thinking  that  every- 
one else  will  be  who  sees  it — a  rather  entertain- 
ing bit  of  egotism,  as  daintily  hinted  by  the 
redstart  as  it  is  vulgarly  paraded  by  the  pea- 
cock, which  is  the  most  glittering  and  shallow- 
pated  instance  of  vanity  that  is  "to  be  found  in 
the  whole  animal  kingdom.  A  flock  of  these 
gorgeous  creatures  in  the  Ramble  daily  de- 
light themselves  no  less  than  their  observers,  as, 

"  Coloured  with  the  florid  hue 
Of  rainbows  and  starry  eyes," 

they  flaunt  their  charms  upon  the  ground,  and 
sometimes  give  an  exceedingly  tropical  tone  to 
the  landscape  by  perching  in  the  higher  branches 
of  some  large  elm  overhanging  a  rocky  ravine. 
Having  magnificently  adorned  the  tail,  nature 
promptly  points  a  moral  by  giving  the  bird  a 
voice  with  which,  in  the  loudest  and  most  con- 
vincing way,  it  advertises  its  need  of  vocal  cult- 
ure. If  the  peacock  only  knew  that  the  rarest 
jewel  in  all  the  galaxy  of  virtues,  graces,  and  ac- 
complishments, is  modesty  !  But  eliminating 
the  voice  and  the  vanity,  and  estimating  it  at 
its  feathers'  worth,  it  is  a  superb  creation,  and 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


illustrates  almost  as  well  as  the  swan,  to  which 
the  couplet  was  originally  applied — 

"  How  graceful  pride  can  be, 
And  how  majestic,  ease." 


Of  all  the  warblers,  the  one  everywhere  most 
familiar  and  abundant  is  the  summer  yellow 
bird,  not  found  in  the  deeper  woods,  but  in 
groves,  and  orchards,  and  open  land,  and  unsus- 
picious enough  to  haunt  the  neighborhood  of 
houses.  It  is  richly  colored  in  deep  yellow,  darker 
on  the  wings  and  back,  and  finely  streaked  with 
brown  upon  the  breast,  and  would  doubtless  be 
eagerly  sought  for,  if  it  were  not  so  easily  found. 
Its  range  is  very  limited,  as  it  is  never  on  the 
ground,  and  rarely  more  than  perhaps  twelve 
feet  above  it,  so  that  its  average  altitude  brings 
it  frequently  into  the  line  of  vision.  On  its 
first  arrival  in  spring  the  yellow  seems  purer 
than  subsequently,  which  is  perhaps  partly  due 
to  its  novelty.  The  voice  is  sweet,  but  the 
song  quite  simple  and  with  a  peculiarly  charac- 
terless ending,  like  an  insipid  coda  to  the  red- 
start's song.  At  the  risk  of  seeming  hypercriti- 
cal, I  must  confess  that  this  bird,  which  to  others 


July 

is  very  attractive,  seems  to  me  a  trifle  tiresome. 
There  is  an  assertiveness  about  any  pure  color, 
still  more  about  strongly  contrasting  colors, 
that  is  wanting  in  plumage  so  mildly  shaded 
and  streaked  throughout  as  the  yellow  bird's. 
Its  tone  is  mild,  its  plumage  mild,  its  manner 
mild  ;  it  is  worse  than  sweet,  it  is  sweetish,  and 
all  in  all,  the  little  creature  impresses  one  as 
being  excessively  amiable  —  a  saintly  quality 
that  is  quite  exasperating  always  to  live  with. 
Occasional  angles  in  one's  nature  are  refreshing 
interruptions  to  unending  curvilinear  mildness. 
A  more  admirable  creature,  with  a  vig- 
orous dash  in  its  character,  is  the  Maryland 
"  yellow  throat,"  also  called  ground  warbler, 
as  it  nests  on  the  ground,  and  is  always  found 
on  or  near  it.  The  bar  of  jet-black  across  the 
forehead  and  extending  down  on  each  side  of 
the  head,  gives  it  what  some  may  smile  at  my 
calling  a  "  strong  face  " — forceful  but  not  bold, 
and  tempered  by  the  rich  yellow  on  the  breast. 
With  plump  and  shapely  form  and  graceful  mo- 
tion, it  has  a  certain  air  of  both  dignity  and 
vivacity  that  makes  it  an  ever  welcome  object. 
It  prefers  more  open  places  than  most  of  the 
warblers,  and  delights  in  bushland,  and  swampy 
ground,  and  the  margin  of  streams.  In  refine- 
203 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


ment  of  manner  and  quiet  elegance  of  plumage, 
it  is  not  surpassed  by  any  of  the  warblers. 

With  such  varied  combinations  of  brilliant 
tints  as  are  to  be  found  in  the  warbler  family,  it 
is  doubtless  impossible  to  give  the  palm  of  ab- 
solute pre-eminence  to  any  one  species.  When 
I  first  saw  the  "  black -throated  greens"  I  was 
positive  that  here  was  the  finest  of  the  group. 
Twenty-four  hours  afterward  I  found  a  beau- 
tiful specimen  of  the  prairie  warbler,  and  then 
I  was  considerably  shaken  in  my  mind.  The 
next  day  I  discovered  the  exquisite  "hooded 
warbler,"  and  then  how  the  "  black-throat- 
ed green  ' '  stock  went  down  !  To  the  bird-stu- 
dent how  many  a  warbler  has  been  the  idol  of 
an  hour  !  And  when  the  "  Blackburnian  "  ap- 
pears on  the  scene,  how  it  consumes  to  ashes  all 
its  rivals,  making  one  ashamed  that  his  heart 
was  ever  taken  captive  by  any  other.  What  a 
satisfying  little  specimen,  too,  is  the  "  mag- 
nolia," for  whom  one's  ardor  is  less  intense, 
but  possibly  more  enduring,  than  for  the  Black- 
burnian; while  there  is  a  delicacy  of  form  and 
hue  in  the  Canada  fly-catcher  that  is  quite 
enchanting.  And  then,  too,  apart  from  the 
inherent  excellence  of  any  species,  its  degree 
of  rarity  has  so  much  to  do  in  forming  our 

204 


MARYLAND    YELLOW-THROATS   (WARBLERS) 


July 

estimate.  Perchance  the  "  Maryland  yellow- 
throat"  would  be  the  peer  of  any  I  have 
named,  if  it  were  only  at  rare  intervals  we 
could  see  it.  In  reality,  each  is  bettered  by  the 
others,  enhanced  by  the  diverse  charms  of  all 
the  group,  and  certainly  each  is  best  enjoyed  by 
foregoing  all  critical  thoughts  of  comparison. 

Each  living  creature  carries  its  own  atmos- 
phere— the  interwoven  influence  of  all  its  traits 
and  aspects ;  and  much  as  we  have  descanted 
upon  the  strong  impression  made  by  the  rich 
coloration  of  plumage,  yet  this  is  not  commonly 
the  aspect  of  the  creature  that  produces  the 
most  lasting  effect ;  and  thus,  with  all  due  ad- 
miration for  their  fine  and  immaculate  array,  the 
birds  that  one  holds  in  the  most  affectionate  re- 
membrance are  not  the  glittering  "  warblers." 


An  acquaintance  to  be  commended  to  every 
observer  is  a  very  common  bird,  somewhat 
smaller  than  the  robin,  and  with  some  resem- 
blance in  color,  as  a  careless  view  of  it  might 
suggest,  known  as  the  towhee  bunting,  or  che- 
wink,  also  not  inaptly  called  swamp  or  ground 
robin,  from  its  habit  of  living  in  swampy 
places,  and  being  generally  found  on  or  near 
205 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


the  ground.  Closely  observed,  its  plumage  is 
seen  to  be  quite  different  from  the  robin's,  as 
the  male  is  pure  black  above  and  on  the  throat, 
white  beneath  and  on  the  outermost  tail-feathers, 
and  the  sides  chestnut.  In  figure  and  bearing, 
too,  it  is  a  finch,  not  a  thrush;  but  popular 
names  are  commonly  founded  on  the  most 
superficial  resemblances,  as  in  the  case  of  the 
red-winged  blackbird,  which  is  also  called 
swamp  robin.  The  name  "  tovvhee  "  approx- 
imately represents  the  sound  it  frequently  makes, 
as  one  finds  it  furtively  hopping  about  in  the 
undergrowth,  picking  over  the  dead  leaves. 

No  ornithologist  would  like  to  be  called  upon 
to  give  a  satisfactory  reason  for  all  his  opinions, 
but  he  would  say  decidedly  that  there  are  very 
different  ways  of  skulking  among  the  bushes ; 
the  catbird's  way  is  suspicious — a  semi-confes- 
sion that  it  is  in  mischief;  the  chewink's  way 
is  only  unobtrusiveness  and  modesty.  The 
name  chewink  is  another  attempt  to  imitate  its 
sound,  but  vowels  and  consonants  are  rarely 
heard  with  much  distinctness  in  a  bird's  notes, 
and  considerable  imagination  must  be  exercised 
in  giving  them  onomatopoetic  names. 

Possessed  of  a  rich  and  rather  strong  voice, 
the  chewinks  have  two  or  three  melodious 
206 


July 

phrases  which  make  them  very  pleasing,  if  not 
notable,  songsters,  and  perched  on  some  bush 
or  the  lower  branch  of  a  tree,  concealed  from 
view,  their  modest  private  rehearsals  are  well 
worth  listening  to.  An  unpretentious  air  per- 
vades the  entire  conduct  of  this  bird.  Seeming 
to  know  that  it  does  not  occupy  a  large  place  in 
the  world,  it  makes  itself  attractive  by  content- 
edly filling  a  small  one. 

A  family  that  is  very  patience-trying  to  the 
beginner  is  that  of  the  vireos,  on  account  of  the 
great  resemblance  of  all  the  species.  In  song 
and  nidification  they  are  quite  distinct,  but  they 
are  not  singing  when  they  arrive  in  spring,  and 
with  no  conspicuous  markings  it  is  almost  im- 
possible to  identify  them  at  a  distance.  Of  the 
four  vireos  I  found  in  the  Ramble,  two  were 
migrant — the  "solitary,"  which  was  perfectly 
silent  during  its  short  stay,  and  the  "  yellow- 
throated  "  (which,  if  not  migrant,  at  least  dis- 
appeared soon  after  its  arrival).  This  latter  is 
the  handsomest  of  the  family,  with  bright  yel- 
low throat  and  breast  passing  abruptly  into 
white  beneath.  Although  not  in  song,  it  ut- 
tered a  very  characteristic  note,  and  quite  aggra- 
vated the  observer  by  chiefly  frequenting  the 
higher  branches.  It  is  said  to  be  a  pleasing 
207 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


singer,  and  one  of  the  most  accomplished  archi- 
tects in  nest-building  of  all  the  birds. 

The  two  other  vireos,  remaining  in  this  lat- 
itude all  summer,  and  found  quite  generally  in 
woodland  as  well  as  in  more  open  places,  are 
the  ' '  red-eyed  ' '  and  the  warbling  vireos.  Not- 
withstanding its  quiet  coloring  the  red-eyed  is 
a  rather  noticeable  bird  for  its  trim  figure,  grace- 
ful action,  and  dressy  appearance.  The  easiest 
way  to  identify  it,  until  it  sings,  is  by  the  dark 
stripe  through  the  eye,  which  is  not  found  in 
the  other  vireos,  while  at  short  range  and  in 
good  light  the  iris  has  a  reddish  tinge.  It  is 
a  voluble  singer,  and  the  song  can  perhaps  be 
best  described  by  saying  that  it  is  half-way  be- 
tween the  chirp  of  the  English  sparrow  and  the 
warble  of  the  robin — having  the  strident  qual- 
ity and  higher  pitch  of  the  former,  and  the 
modulation  of  the  latter.  Some  are  greatly 
pleased  with  its  music,  but  to  me  there  is  more 
pleasure  in  watching  its  motions,  as  with  dainty 
form  it  busily  and  dexterously  climbs  about 
among  the  branches,  with  much  of  the  elegant 
ease  that  distinguishes  the  chickadee.  In  list- 
ening to  it  one  is  likely  to  think  how  near  the 
English  sparrow  came  to  being  a  singer  and 
just  missed  it.  Far  more  delightful  than  the 


July 

"  red-eye's  "  warble  is  that  of  the  solitary  vireo 
— so  pure  and  serene — the  tone  of  a  finer  spirit. 
In  the  more  open  places,  where  a  single 
shrub  or  tree  will  afford  a  sheltered  perch,  or  in 
a  row  of  trees  by  the  road-side,  one  is  likely  to 
hear  the  warbling  vireo,  which  is  in  truth  a 
warbler,  and  with  more  mellow  tone  than  the 
"red-eye"  possesses.  One  eminent  writer 
says  that  not  a  single  other  bird  "  can  rival  the 
tenderness  and  softness  of  the  liquid  strains  of 
this  modest  vocalist."  This  is  high  praise,  and 
I  have  not  been  so  fortunate  as  to  find  any  war- 
bling vireo  that  would  justify  the  compliment. 
To  my  ear  there  is  a  pronounced  petulance  of 
tone  in  the  "  red-eye,"  and  a  touch  of  it  in  the 
warbling  vireo,  as  if  neither  of  them  possessed 
the  loveliest  disposition  in  the  world.  The 
warbling  vireo  is  noticeably  smaller  than  the 
"red-eye,"  and  of  a  more  dull  and  uniform 
color.  (Fearing  that  the  foregoing  language  in 
regard  to  the  ' '  red-eye  ' '  depreciates  it  below 
my  own  real  estimate,  I  am  glad  to  confess  that 
later  in  the  season  its  song  sounded  richer  and 
less  irritable.  Perhaps  the  ear  is  less  critical 
in  the  silences  of  August  than  in  full-toned  June  ; 
or  quite  possibly,  the  "  red-eye's  "  song  sweet- 
ens with  age.) 

209 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


Nature's  effects  are  produced  with  consum- 
mate skill,  although  we  may  be  tempted  now 
and  then  to  think  the  lines  are  crude  and  clumsy ; 
and  when  she  created  the  Canada  goose  she 
was  evidently  fearful  that  our  ears  might  be  sur- 
feited with  superabundance  of  mellifluous  de- 
lectability.  The  vocal  organs  of  this  bird  are  as 
complete  a  check  to  such  satiety  as  one  could 
imagine.  A  pair  of  these  creatures  (a  part  of 
the  floating  assets  of  the  Park),  with  music  un- 
doubtedly in  their  hearts,  although  it  gets  ex- 
cruciatingly snarled  up  in  their  throats,  frequent- 
ly have  a  ' '  fine  frenzy ' '  come  over  them,  when 
it  becomes  quite  useless  to  listen  for  anything 
more  delicate  than  a  crow-symphony.  One  of 
them  in  particular,  probably  the  male,  accom- 
panies the  serenade  with  such  remarkable  writh- 
ings  and  jerkings  of  his  long  neck,  as  to  make 
the  beholder  fear  that  there  are  junks  of  sound 
sticking  in  his  windpipe,  and  he  is  in  danger  of 
choking ;  but  finding  that  no  evil  results  ensue, 
he  finally  attributes  these  convulsions  to  ex- 
uberance of  feeling.  It  must  be  confessed  that 
such  vociferation,  relieved  by  picturesque  sur- 
roundings, and  mellowed  by  distance,  creates  a 
novel  and  poetic  impression — one  of  nature's 
harsh  but  vigorous  and  essential  undertones. 


July 

Each  of  nature's  works  must  have  its  place,  and 
it  is  man's  fault  or  his  great  misfortune,  if  his 
view  of  it  is  not  at  such  an  angle  as  to  reveal 
therein  a  consistent  element  of  the  whole. 


A  bird's  range  of  speculation  is  necessarily 
limited,  but  about  such  matters  as  lie  within 
its  province  it  has  very  decided  opinions.  It 
would  be  interesting  (possibly  not  nattering)  to 
learn  its  estimate  of  mankind ;  for  perhaps  there 
is  no  other  creature  that  recognizes  more  quick- 
ly and  keenly  the  difference  between  a  human 
being  and  any  other  animal,  and  in  its  constant 
discrimination  there  is  ground  for  clear  convic- 
tion. 

Man  is  pleased  to  recognize  among  the  evi- 
dences of  his  supremacy  in  the  world  an  un- 
doubted acknowledgment  of  it  in  the  lower 
animals.  Even  a  fierce  wild  beast  may  stand  in 
awe  of  him,  and  occasionally  it  is  reported  that 
a  savage  monster  has  quietly  walked  away, 
rather  than  try  to  endure  his  steady  and  intrepid 
gaze.  Some  are  so  sanguine  as  to  believe  that 
every  ferocious  quadruped  would  similarly  quail 
and  retire,  were  it  not  that  in  almost  every  such 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


collision  of  the  races  it  is  the  man  who  feels 
inclined  to  retire  first. 

The  gentler  creatures  are  thought  to  pay  their 
homage  to  man,  in  their  sense  of  reliance  upon, 
and  even  a  sentiment  of  regard  for,  this  superior 
being ;  and  frequently  the  more  useful  animals 
certainly  show  a  devotion  to  their  masters  that 
is  a  model  for  imitation. 

Among  the  feathered  race  in  its  wild  state  the 
birds  of  prey  seem  invariably  to  cherish  a  spirit 
of  cowardly  animosity  toward  man ;  while  in 
game  and  water  birds  it  would  be  very  difficult 
to  prove  any  partiality  for  his  society,  as  in  gen- 
eral they  avoid  his  neighborhood,  or  at  best  ig- 
nore him.  But  it  is  chiefly  in  what  scientists  re- 
gard as  the  highest  order  of  birds — the  passeres  or 
perchers — which  include  all  the  song-birds — that 
a  feeling  of  friendly  regard  for  man  is  sometimes 
thought  to  be  entertained,  as  in  the  robin, 
bluebird,  sparrows,  etc.,  although  such  friend- 
ly feeling  has  a  very  strong  intermixture  of  sus- 
picion. The  argument  commonly  adduced  to 
prove  their  amicable  sentiment  is  the  fact  that 
they  manifestly  choose  to  live  in  his  neighbor- 
hood, becoming  abundant  where  he  opens  up 
the  country,  and  saying  in  effect,  in  the  language 
of  one  famous  in  the  olden  time,  "  Where  thou 


July 

goest  I  will  go,  and  where  thou  lodgest  I  will 
lodge."  It  is  true  that  they  have  followed 
closely  in  man's  wake,  as  he  has  advanced 
through  the  wilderness,  making  it  to  blossom  as 
the  rose  ;  but  the  poetry  of  the  matter  is  quite 
upset  by  the  fact  that  it  is  the  rose  that  they  are 
after,  and«not  the  man.  We  must  recognize 
the  fact  that  at  heart  birds  are  supremely  prac- 
tical creatures,  and  that  the  uppermost  question 
with  them  always  is,  "What  shall  we  eat,  and 
what  shall  we  drink  ?  ' '  That  is  to  say,  their 
movements  are  always  in  the  direction  of  the 
greatest  food-supply. 

Man's  advent  into  every  habitable  region  of 
the  globe  has  been  the  signal  for  a  wonderful 
upspringing  of  all  forms  of  life  around  him. 
Cultivation  of  soil  multiplies  the  variety  and 
abundance  of  vegetable  growth ;  this  luxuriance 
is  the  promoter  of  insect  life,  and  in  the  vege- 
table and  animal  products  are  the  nourishment 
of  our  song-birds.  The  depths  of  the  forest  af- 
ford meagre  subsistence,  at  least  as  regards  vari- 
ety, compared  with  the  groves,  orchards,  gar- 
dens, and  waysides,  teeming  with  countless  forms 
of  plant  and  animal  life,  introduced  directly  and 
indirectly  by  man. 

The  centre  of  abundance  of  birds  is  in  the 
213 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


tropical  regions,  where  their  natural  supplies 
are  the  greatest,  and  their  dependence  upon 
man  the  least,  and  it  is  altogether  probable  that 
the  question  whether  human  beings  are  to  be 
found  in  any  locality,  has  nothing  to  do  in  de- 
termining their  migration  thither,  except  as 
they  have  learned  to  associate  his  presence  with 
supply  and  variety  of  food  ;  just  as  the  gulls 
will  follow  the  steamship  far  out  to  sea,  simply 
for  the  loaves  and  fishes. 

If  the  population  of  any  country  town  were 
utterly  to  disappear  for  a  period  of  years,  and  by 
invisible  agencies  all  the  agricultural  and  horti- 
cultural conditions  of  the  town  were  to  be  main- 
tained, we  may  be  sure  that  when  the  inhabi- 
tants returned,  they  would  find  not  only  as 
many  birds  of  the  usual  species  as  before,  but 
many  other  varieties  which,  from  timidity,  had 
hitherto  resorted  to  more  retired  localities ; 
and  that  one  and  all,  if  endowed  with  human 
speech,  would  declare  that  they  had  enjoyed  an 
unusually  quiet  and  peaceable  life. 

We  are  certainly  crediting  them  with  far 
more  intelligence  when  we  suppose  them  to  re- 
gard man  as  a  treacherous  foe,  to  be  avoided 
as  far  as  is  compatible  with  their  own  interests  ; 
when  we  remember  that  until  recently  relentless 
214 


July 

war  has  been  waged  upon  them  by  anyone 
so  minded ;  that  even  now  the  regulations 
for  their  protection  are  very  inadequate  and 
often  violated  ;  and  that  many  species  are 
in  danger  of  extermination  from  the  ruthless 
onslaught  upon  them  and  their  eggs.  In  view 
of  man's  past  and  present  record,  it  is  not  wise 
to  add  insult  to  injury  by  any  patronizing 
assumptions.*  It  is  quite  as  much  from  the 
growing  recognition  of  their  utility,  and  the 
absolutely  indispensable  part  they  play  in  the 
economy  of  nature,  as  from  motives  of  human- 
ity, that  mankind  is  at  last  coming  to  have  a 
higher  regard  and  to  enact  more  stringent  laws 
for  their  welfare. 

The  fact  that  in  extremely  rare  instances, 
when  in  great  fear,  they  have  sought  man's  pro- 
tection, proves  only  that  of  two  dangers  they 

*  Before  they  have  learned  to  be  suspicious,  their  atti- 
tude toward  man  is  often  quite  the  reverse.  Travellers  in 
remote  regions,  where  man  is  rarely  seen,  often  report 
finding  birds  remarkably  fearless,  and  even  annoyingly 
familiar.  Audubon  tells  of  the  Canada  jay,  which  in 
northern  forests  will  frequently  eat  out  of  the  hands  of  the 
lumber  cutters.  I  have  elsewhere  read  of  a  traveller  who, 
as  he  sat  writing  at  his  table,  was  irritated  as  well  as 
amused  by  having  a  bird  run  about  over  the  paper  and 
pick  at  every  object  he  saw,  and  only  with  difficulty  was 
driven  away. 

215 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


have  chosen  the  least — a  rather  dubious  compli- 
ment. An  instance  of  this  sort  is  narrated  by 
an  eminent  authority,  who  relates  that  on  en- 
tering his  room  one  day  he  was  startled  to  see 
a  quail  sitting  on  his  bed,  having  taken  refuge 
there,  as  he  supposed,  in  fleeing  from  a  hawk. 
The  argument  loses  its  edge  by  the  additional 
remark,  that  upon  the  writer's  entering  the 
room  "the  affrighted  and  bewildered  bird 
instantly  started  for  the  window!"  A  most 
unreasonable  and  ungrateful  fowl ! 


The  American  goldfinch  in  his  summer  dress 
of  brilliant  yellow,  with  a  black  cap  and  black 
wings  barred  with  white,  is  one  of  the  most 
showy  of  the  finches,  and  easily  mistaken  for  a 
warbler.  When  singing  he  prefers  the  upper- 
most part  of  a  tree,  whence  often  streams  down 
such  a  voluble,  gushing,  and  incoherent  melody 
that  it  seems  the  outpour  of  two  or  three  throats 
instead  of  one.  The  song  is  sweet,  but  formless, 
like  that  of  the  thrasher,  and  with  a  delicious 
languishment  that  is  sometimes  rather  cloying. 
A  more  fresh  and  breezy  quality  sweeps  through 
the  warble  of  the  European  species. 

A  most  striking  combination  of  colors  was 
216 


AMERICAN    GOLDFINCHES 


/  July 

one  day  afforded  in  seeing  a  flock  of  goldfinches 
and  indigo-birds  running  about  over  the  grass. 
An  artist  would  find  difficulty  in  projecting 
indigo-blue  on  a  congenial  green  background, 
but  nature  hesitates  at  nothing,  and  is  never  at 
fault  as  a  colorist. 

The  handsomest  all-the-year-round  bird  in 
this  region  is  the  cardinal  grosbeak  (one  of  the 
finches),  and  it  has  a  peculiar  and  interesting, 
if  not  altogether  commendable,  individuality. 
With  a  refined,  courtly,  and  self-conscious  air 
in  bearing  and  song,  it  seems  to  typify  a  sort 
of  aristocracy  that  feels  the  weight  of  inherited 
consequence,  revelling  in  the  deep  blessedness 
of  a  prolonged  and  illustrious  ancestry.  A 
person's  relation  to  his  ancestors  is  singular  and 
extremely  convenient.  It  enables  him  to  ap- 
propriate their  virtues  and  repudiate  their  vices, 
and  in  many  instances  a  large  proportion  of  their 
mental  and  moral  assets  are  thus  derived,  as  well 
as  their  chief  claim  to  recognition  in  society. 
Ancestral  greatness  is  capable  of  being  a  source 
of  perennial  and  inextinguishable  joy,  almost  as 
great  as  that  of  the  lady  who  said  that,  in  the 
consciousness  of  being  well  dressed,  she  found  a 
satisfaction  such  as  even  the  consolations  of  re- 
ligion could  not  afford. 
217 


The  Birds'  Calendar 

In  the  strong  contrast  of  its  plumage  to  the 
snow  and  the  bare  branches,  the  cardinal  seems 
like  a  breath  of  warm  air,  as  it  floats  hither  and 
thither  in  the  wintry  landscape.  Yet  one  soon 
learns  to  look  upon  it  as  an  admirable  rather 
than  a  lovable  bird — ornamental,  like  a  piece  of 
bric-a  brae  with  which  one  comes  into  no  vital 
touch — cold  and  unemotional  as  its  December 
surroundings,  and  if  not  distinctly  unfriendly 
to  its  humbler  fellows,  yet  plainly  showing  its 
haughty  instincts.  It  would  seem  a  great  con- 
descension for  it  to  step  upon  the  ground ;  and 
as  for  running  about  on  the  grass,  like  the  robin 
and  sparrow,  such  a  thing  would  be  scandalously 
disreputable.  There  are  many  other  birds  that 
avoid  the  ground  just  as  much  as  the  cardinal. 
It  is  not  the  height  at  which  a  bird  lives  in  the 
world  that  is  the  point  in  question,  but  its  aris- 
tocratic or  democratic  instinct. 

The  cardinal's  song  is  especially  disappoint- 
ing, for  there  are  such  possibilities  in  the  full, 
rich  tone  that  do  not  begin  to  be  realized. 
Commencing  with  a  clear  and  magnificent  whis- 
tle, several  times  repeated,  like  a  preliminary 
nourish,  you  are  on  the  qui  vive  for  a  glorious 
performance — and  there  he  stops  !  Either  the 
mind  or  the  heart  (perhaps  both)  is  lacking  to 
218 


July 

say  anything  more.  Summarized,  the  cardinal 
is  brilliant,  stately,  unsocial,  and  apparently  not 
anxious  to  make  the  most  of  his  gifts.  Can  any 
one  say  that  birds  are  not  types  of  mankind  ? 

* 

The  wood  thrush  as  a  singer  is  sui  generis. 
A  well-known  writer  once  divided  the  human 
race  into  two  parts — all  the  rest  of  the  world, 
and  the  Beecher  family.  With  much  the  same 
propriety  we  may  divide  all  our  song-birds  into 
two  groups — all  the  rest  of  the  songsters,  and 
the  thrush  family.  The  voice  of  the  wood 
thrush  (and  the  same  is  true  of  the  veery  and 
the  hermit  thrush)  is  so  unique  as  quite  to  pre- 
clude all  comparison.  The  oriole,  the  purple 
finch,  the  goldfinch,  the  rose-breasted  grosbeak, 
have  each  its  special  excellence,  but  they  are  all 
measured  in  the  terms  of  each  other — they  are 
all,  so  to  speak,  human ;  the  wood  thrush,  to 
use  a  much-abused  term,  is  divine.  In  listen- 
ing to  any  one  of  the  finches  I  have  named,  one 
is  quite  likely  to  think  of  the  others,  even  if  it 
be  in  the  way  of  the  most  flattering  contrast ; 
but  when  he  hears  the  wood  or  the  hermit 
thrush  or  the  veery,  he  simply  forgets  the 
others.  There  seems  to  be  a  soul  speaking  in 
219 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


it,  ana  there  is  much  the  same  difference,  there- 
fore, between  this  and  all  other  birds,  that 
one  finds  between  the  human  voice  and  all 
instruments  of  human  contrivance.  Such  a 
combination  of  apparently  contrary  qualities — 
so  mellow  and  yet  so  metallic,  so  liquid  and 
luscious,  and  yet  so  full  and  sonorous — is  not 
remotely  approached,  is  not  even  suggested,  by 
any  other  of  our  birds.  Such  a  voice  was  one 
of  the  happiest  thoughts  of  the  Creator,  and  we 
might  say  of  it  as  someone  remarked  of  the 
strawberry:  "  Doubtless  the  Lord  might  have 
made  a  better  berry,  but  doubtless  the  Lord 
never  did." 

There  is  one  thing  in  regard  to  the  robin 
that  seems  worthy  of  mention,  especially  as  I 
have  never  seen  it  alluded  to,  viz.,  its  call-note, 
in  the  variety  of  its  expression.  I  know  of  no 
other  bird  that  is  able  to  give  so  many  shades 
of  meaning  to  a  single  tone,  running  through 
the  entire  gamut  of  its  possible  feelings.  From 
the  soft  and  mellow  quality,  almost  as  coaxing 
as  a  dove's  note,  with  which  it  encourages  its 
young  when  just  out  of  the  nest,  the  tone  with 
minute  gradations  becomes  more  vehement,  and 
then  harsh  and  with  quickened  reiteration,  un- 
til it  expresses  the  greatest  intensity  of  a  bird's 


July 

emotions.  Love,  contentment,  anxiety,  exulta- 
tion, rage — what  other  animal  can  throw  such 
multifarious  meaning  into  its  tone?  And  here- 
in the  robin  seems  more  nearly  human  than  any 
of  its  kind. 

In  summer  the  robin  is  commonly  in  most 
vocal  mood  in  his  morning  serenade,  about 
four  or  five  o'clock;  the  world  not  yet  astir, 
the  air  cool,  dewy,  and  fragrant,  and  nature 
receiving  its  earliest  greeting  of  light  and  song. 
Morning  and  evening  are  the  poetic  edges  of 
a  day  that  is  full  enough  of  prose.  The  most 
delightful  association  of  robin  is  with  that  scene, 
so  familiar  in  every  country  home,  when,  after  a 
summer's  shower  at  close  of  day, 

"  If  chance  the  radiant  sun,  with  farewell  sweet, 
Extend  his  ev'ning  beam,  the  fields  revive, 
The  birds  their  notes  renew,  and  bleating  herds 
Attest  their  joy,  that  hill  and  valley  ring," — 

while  from  the  dripping  maple  one  hears  the 
cheerful  carol  of  the  robin,  as  if  voicing  Nature's 
thankfulness  for  the  blessing  of  the  rain  and  of 
the  sunshine.  No  other  sound  blends  so  well 
with  the  spirit  of  the  scene. 


August 


"  Dust  on  thy  mantle !  -dust, 

Bright  Summer,  on  thy  livery  of  green  ! 
A  tarnish  as  of  rust 
Dims  thy  late  brilliant  sheen. " 

William  D.  Gallagher 


AUGUST 

I  HEN  an  inscrutable  Providence  has 
fixed  the  bounds  of  one's  habitation 
during  the  major  part  of  the  year 
within  city  walls,  a  brief  annu- 
al outing,  most  salutary  for  mind  and  body,  and 
to  be  accepted  with  all  thankfulness,  is  yet  apt 
to  become  an  annual  aggravation  as  well,  for 
one  who  has  an  ambition  to  utilize  the  occasion 
for  the  prosecution  of  either  botany  or  ornithol- 
ogy, inasmuch  as  he  finds  himself,  at  the  con- 
ventional season  for  such  recreation, quite  in  the 
condition  of  the  dog  that  eats  only  the  crumbs 
that  fall  from  Nature's  bountiful  table ;  or,  if  we 
vary  the  figure,  and  dignify  him  with  the  po- 
sition of  an  invited  guest,  he  fares  no  better,  as 
he  finds  that  in  sitting  down  at  the  table  in  mid- 
summer, he  comes  to  the  feast  rather  "  between 
the  courses" — the  roast -beef  has  been  cleared 
away,  and  nothing  else  brought  on. 

Botany  knows  less  of  times  and  seasons  than 
ornithology,  for  inflorescence  is  continuous,  even 
225 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


if  not  equally  interesting  and  abundant,  from 
early  spring  till  late  in  the  fall.  Yet  its  volume 
of  life,  too,  is  fullest  in  June,  after  which  the 
current  runs  low  till  its  last  gorgeous  "com- 
posite "  outburst  in  autumn.  In  bird-life  the 
summer  season  lies  "  between  the  waves,"  and 
has  a  less  positive  character,  perhaps  we  may 
say,  than  even  winter  itself.  But  in  passing 
from  the  limited  area  and  opportunity  of  city 
life  to  the  broad  acres  of  the  country,  the  mid- 
summer stagnation  signifies  less,  and  gives  op- 
portunity for  new  research.  The  various  birds 
have  such  distinct  tastes  in  regard  to  their  sur- 
roundings, that  the  conditions  of  the  Ramble 
must  needs  be  uninviting  to  many  of  the  most 
familiar  varieties  in  the  country,  and  a  brief  di- 
gression from  city  limits  into  open  fields  and 
rural  highways  will  bring  a  few  of  them  into 
view,  and  extend  the  acquaintance  with  some 
that  were  only  transiently  in  the  Park. 


In  an  old  historic  town  of  New  England, 
whose  early  records  deal  with  the  Indians  and 
the  Revolutionary  War,  and  whose  latter-day 
fame  rests  upon  the  fact  that  it  is  in  the  very 
depths  of  Nature,  and  signally  exempt  from  all 
226 


August 

artificial  means  of  exhilaration,  with  the  delight- 
ful possibilities  and  monotonous  impossibilities 
of  every  sleepy  old  country  town,  I  often  found 
myself  on  the  banks  of  a  winding,  elm-shaded 
river — one  of  those  streamlets  whose  restful, 
constant  flow  is  a  most  alluring  invitation  to 
the  most  intense  laziness.  A  flock  of  bank 
swallows  visited  the  spot  quite  as  often  as  my- 
self, and  from  more  practical  and  urgent  mo- 
tives ;  and,  concluding  that  they  lived  in  the 
neighborhood,  I  one  day  followed  up  the  stream 
to  a  point  where  the  banks  rose  high  and  sandy 
from  the  water's  edge.  Here,  I  thought,  if  I 
knew  anything  of  the  domiciliary  tastes  of  bank 
swallows,  would  be  a  most  eligible  site  for  their 
residence ;  and  jumping  down  to  the  river's 
edge,  and  casting  my  eye  along  the  steep,  sandy 
wall,  I  soon  discovered  a  large  number  of  their 
excavations  in  the  hard,  fine  sand — clean,  round 
holes,  looking  at  a  distance  as  if  a  number  of 
cannon-balls  had  been  shot  into  the  bank  from 
the  opposite  shore.  They  were  just  large  enough 
to  admit  my  hand,  and  so  deep  that  I  could  in 
many  cases  thrust  in  my  arm  up  to  the  shoulder, 
and  with  my  fingers  just  touch  the  end,  where 
the  excavation  became  a  little  larger.  As  the 
young  had  already  been  hatched  and  the  abodes 
227 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


abandoned,  I  did  not  consider  that  I  was  mak- 
ing myself  liable  for  house-breaking,  nor  that  it 
was  an  act  of  vandalism  to  draw  out  a  quantity 
of  feathers  and  fine  roots — the  material  common- 
ly used  in  their  nests.  Many  of  the  nests  con- 
tained little  or  none  of  this  material,  which 
seemed  almost  superfluous,  considering  the  sub- 
stratum of  soft  sand.  These  swallows  are  to  be 
congratulated  for  the  instinct  that  prompts  them 
to  select  such  a  singular  location  for  their  abode 
— so  comfortable  and  thoroughly  protected,  im- 
pervious to  rain  and  wind. 

Hovering  about  the  same  stream  could  be 
seen  the  belted  kingfisher,  very  much  of  a  water- 
fowl in  instinct  and  physiognomy,  if  not  in  anat- 
omy. Alighting  upon  a  bush  close  beside  me, 
his  amazement  at  discovering  the  intrusion  (of 
course  /  was  the  intruder,  not  hi)  made  him 
motionless  for  an  instant,  and  then  with  awk- 
ward grace  and  coarse  cry  he  dashed  out  of  sight 
down  the  stream.  In  a  neighboring  bank  I 
found  his  nest,  or  that  of  some  other  kingfisher, 
modelled  after  that  of  the  bank  swallow,  but 
much  larger  and  deeper — a  straight  tunnel  at 
least  five  feet  long. 

Along  this  stream  I  often  found  a  pair  of 
sandpipers,  with  their  ludicrous,  teetering  bodies 
228 


SPOTTED    SANDPIPER 


August 

and  bobbing  heads,  half  walking,  half  running 
at  the  water's  edge  on  the  other  shore.  It 
seemed  a  little  remarkable  that,  whichever  side 
of  the  stream  I  might  be  on,  those  tilting  little 
sandpipers  were  sure  to  be  on  the  opposite  side 
— so  like  some  folks.  A  phoebe  also  was  linger- 
ing about  the  water.  It  was  no  holiday  for  him, 
he  had  a  keen  eye  to  business,  and  was  making 
frequent  sallies  from  the  branch  of  an  ancient, 
Calvinistic  oak  gnarled  with  age,  and  scarred 
with  adversity,  but  grim  and  defiant  to  the 
outermost  twig  ;  beneath  whose  angular  shade 
on  a  stretch  of  sloping  green  I  lay  and  watched 
the  shallow,  eddying  current,  whose  incessant 
flow  seemed  to  palliate  my  own  supreme  idle- 
ness. 

A  drove  of  cows  returning  home  from  pasture, 
lazily  stopping  here  and  there  to  browse,  and 
one  after  the  other  splashing  through  the  water 
with  true  bovine  dignity  and  enjoyment,  or 
standing  in  its  delicious  coolness — luxuriant 
trees  growing  from  the  margin,  and  casting  long 
shadows  as  the  sun  declined — a  troop  of  red- 
winged  blackbirds  flying  about  and  chattering 
loudly  as  they  settled  in  the  trees,  with  now  and 
then  the  daintier  tone  of  some  mellow-voiced 
goldfinches — cliff  and  bank  swallows  with  flinty 
229 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


notes  coursing  up  and  down,  now  high  in  air, 
now  skimming  the  water,— the  perpetual  rural- 
ist  finds  nothing  in  these  commonplace  occur- 
rences worth  the  mention  (quite  likely  he  does 
not  see  them)  ;  but  the  gilded  shops  of  the  city 
do  not  contain  their  equal.  Nature  never 
strains  for  an  efect—\ve  often  fail  to  realize  she 
has  made  an  effect  until  we  recall  the  scene — 
she  has  no  display-windows  for  her  wares.  Her 
beauty  eludes  rather  than  seeks  observation, 
seeming  to  exist  quke  as  a  matter  of  course,  and 
for  its  own  sake,  without  a  thought  whether  a 
human  eye  sees  and  admires  or  not,  but  every- 
thing in  its  sort  perfect,  without  a  front  side 
and  a  back  side,  which  is  man's  confession  of  a 
low  standard. 

In  pastoral  scenery  Nature's  chef-d' ceuvre  is 
the  cow.  Mr.  Burroughs  calls  it  "  our  rural  di- 
vinity;"—  gentle,  guileless,  honest,  and  un- 
worldly, how  the  clumsy,  patient  beast  embodies 
the  chief  attractive  qualities  of  that  childhood 
of  which  it  is  the  great  nourisher  the  world  over. 
And  I  believe,  too,  there  is  more  honest,  homely 
sense  of  the  beauty  of  nature  in  those  great,  mild 
eyes  of  the  cow — the  serene,  benevolent,  equani- 
mous  cow — than  in  any  other  animaf.  As  has 
been  said  of  Wisdom,  so  we  may  say  of  her, 

230 


August 

"  Her  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,"  and  all 
her  paths  are  picturesque. 

i 

The  world  always  puts  a  premium  upon  in- 
dividuality, even  when  its  manifestations  are 
somewhat  repugnant  to  man's  finer  instincts. 
For  that  reason  we  often  admire  where  we  know 
we  ought  to  reprobate,  and  become  extremely 
weary  of  that  which  we  must  confess  is  highly 
virtuous. 

A  bird,  one  of  whose  chief  attractions  is  an 
eccentricity  of  depravity,  quite  abundant  in  the 
more  open  places,  and  by  its  habits  conspicuous 
quite  out  of  proportion  to  its  size,  is  the  so-called 
"  king-bird  " — a  name  far  too  royal  for  a  sleek 
little  fellow  only  seven  inches  long,  playing  the 
gentlemanly  villain's  part,  with  a  bill  murder- 
ous only  of  bugs  and  butterflies,  but  his  heart 
ready  to  fire  up  at  an  instant's  notice  into  the 
savageness  of  a  hawk.  Almost  all  of  the  small- 
er birds,  proverbially  timid  at  all  other  times  of 
the  year,  are  noted  for  becoming  surprisingly 
bold,  and  almost  oblivious  of  their  own  safety,  in 
defence  of  their  young  ;  but  with  this  occasion 
past,  all  their  courage  flies.  In  the  case  of  the 
king-bird,  however,  such  spasmodic  valor  seems 
231 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


to  have  become  chronic,  degenerating  into  mere 
pugnacity,  which  is  the  impulse  to  contention 
without  the  motive.  With  the  irresistible  ve- 
hemence of  a  hornet  it  will  dash  upon  any  of  its 
fellows,  big  or  little,  putting  crows,  hawks,  and 
eagles  to  rout  by  its  sheer  audacity.  The  dis- 
eased valor  of  this  bird  reminds  one  of  pugna- 
cious philanthropists,  in  whom  the  continual  op- 
position they  have  encountered  has  developed  a 
spirit  of  warfare  that  prompts  them  to  champion 
any  good  cause  in  which  they  may  be  sure  of 
hard  fighting. 

This  is  one  of  the  commonest  birds  in  bushy 
pastures  and  along  the  roadsides,  a  veritable 
highwayman,  conspicuous  on  telegraph  wires 
running  across  country,  always  perching  in  a 
prominent  spot  where  it  can  see  the  luckless  in- 
sects flying  about,  at  which  it  makes  a  dash, 
bringing  its  prey  back  to  its  post  of  observation. 
The  jingle  of  metallic  sounds  they  utter  on  the 
wing  is  far  from  unmusical,  though  a  bit  satiri- 
cal ;  but  is  not  in  any  sense  a  song.  Like  the 
other  flycatchers  they  are  not  gregarious,  being 
seen  only  in  pairs  or  singly,  and  are  easily  re- 
cognized by  the  white  band  on  the  tip  of  the 
tail,  while  the  upper  side  is  almost  black,  the 
under  side  a  dull  white,  and  in  its  plumage  and 
232 


August 

the  peculiarly  erect  position  of  all  fly  catchers, 
presenting  a  very  spruce  appearance.  It  has 
an  interesting  and  unusual  method  of  bathing. 
Instead  of  standing  in  shallow  water  and  dip- 
ping itself,  like  other  birds,  it  flies  from  its 
perch  directly  into  the  stream,  dashing  the 
water  over  its  back,  returning  to  its  place,  and 
repeating  the  performance  several  times.  A 
pair  of  them  could  be  often  seen  performing 
their  ablutions  in  the  stream  I  so  often  visited. 


One  could  hardly  enjoy  a  gentler  call  from 
slumber  than  the  soft,  delicious  warble  of  the 
bluebird,  as  it  often  came  in  at  my  window  at 
early  dawn.  It  requires  no  imagination  to  see  in 
this  bird  nature's  type  of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit. 
If  the  king-bird  is  one  of  the  chief  sinners,  the 
bluebird  certainly  ranks  among  the  highest  of 
the  feathered  saints — a  Nathaniel  indeed,  in 
whom  is  no  guile.  Its  mellow,  coaxing  love- 
note  is  one  of  the  most  affectionate  sounds  in 
nature,  and  matches  the  delicate  gentleness  of 
its  ways,  making  it  the  favorite  alike  of  poet  and 
peasant.  Passing  from  the  atmosphere  of  other 
birds  to  this  is  like  the  quick  transition  from 
the  noisy  cataract  to  the  restfulness  of  the  deep 

233 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


and  quiet  pool.  It  lingers  about  the  orchard 
like  a  benediction  of  Nature,  and  when  it  is 
gone,  its  memory  remains  as  immaculate  and 
suggestive  as  its  own  cerulean  color. 

Objects  which  manifest  themselves  through 
the  different  bodily  senses  do  not  seem  to  stand 
upon  any  comparable  basis,  but  science  is  be- 
ginning to  show  a  marvellous  unity  in  this  re- 
spect, and  the  correlation  of  motion  and  heat, 
which  once  would  have  been  deemed  an  absurd- 
ity, is  now  evident  enough.  Fancy  sometimes 
sees  what  science  later  proves,  and  if  objects  of 
sight  and  hearing  shall  likewise  be  shown  to 
have  an  essential  force  in  common,  it  may 
some  time  be  no  surprise  to  detect  the  ethereal 
warble  of  the  bluebird  melting  into  that  most 
spirituelle  of  all  colors,  the  vanishing  violet. 

Of  all  the  more  pretentious  bird-songs  I  have 
ever  listened  to,  that  of  the  purple  finch  seems 
the  most  virile,  gladsome,  and  melodious :  as 
gushing  as  that  of  the  goldfinch,  but  less  senti- 
mental ;  vigorous  and  not  satiating  ;  not  form- 
less in  modulation,  but  with  a  piquant  rhythmic 
phrase,  a  tripping  measure  that  instantly  catches 
the  ear  and  stirs  the  blood,  a  genuine  and  de- 
lightful "invitation  to  the  dance."  During 
the  first  few  days  of  my  country-life  they  were 

234 


August 

quite  numerous  among  the  apple- trees  and  the 
wayside  elms  and  maples,  holding  a  continuous 
high  carnival :  so  brimful  of  delight  that  it 
seemed  as  if  they  must  dissolve  in  song.  Their 
merriment  is  infectious,  and  their  joy  as  trans- 
parent as  that  of  a  child — the  purest  in  the 
world,  for  no  sorrow  is  lurking  in  their  hearts. 
Emerson's  words  concerning  the  chickadee  can 
with  almost  equal  aptness  be  addressed  to  the 
purple  finch : 

' '  There  is  no  sorrow  in  thy  song, 
No  winter  in  thy  year." 

Although  with  its  silence  from  fall  until  spring 
one  cannot  say  of  the  finch  as  of  the  chickadee, 
that  it  is  no  respecter  of  seasons. 

I  shall  long  remember  the  welcome  that  one 
of  these  finches  seemed  most  graciously  to  give 
me,  as  it  flew  to  a  branch  of  an  apple-tree  al- 
most within  hand -reach,  just  after  my  arrival, 
and  began  to  carol  deliciously,  as  if  to  say, 
"  Glad  to  see  you,  glad  to  see  you,  ha,  ha,  ha  ! 
hope  you'll  have  a  jolly  time  !  "  After  a  few 
days  the  whole  flock  suddenly  ceased  singing, 
almost  as  if  by  a  preconcerted  signal.  I  think 
they  must  have  left  the  neighborhood,  or  else 
had  received  some  bad  news. 

235 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


Half  of  the  charm  of  bird-songs  is  in  the 
fact  that  in  their  varying  qualities  they  repro- 
duce such  diverse  scenes  in  nature.  There  is  a 
noonday  brightness  in  the  purple  finch's  melo- 
dy, whose  radiant  notes  are  like  the  sunbeams 
playing  among  the  tremulous  leaves.  In  the 
wood  thrush  there  is  indeed  no  overpowering 
ecstasy  as  in  the  ardent  finch,  but  what  a  rich, 
reposeful  dignity — a  liquid  coolness  in  that 
rippling  cadence-phrase,  the  song  par  excel- 
lence of  twilight  and  deep  woods. 

A  bird  that  comes  very  enthusiastically  in- 
troduced, but  with  which,  I  regret  to  say,  I 
have  only  a  passing  acquaintance  as  yet,  is  a 
handsome,  gifted,  and  striking  individual,  re- 
nowned in  prose  and  poetry  as  a  most  dashing, 
happy-go-lucky  sort  of  fellow,  a  feathered  ex- 
travaganza, an  intoxicated  soloist,  an  artistic 
comedian — the  bobolink,  called  in  his  south- 
ern winter  quarters  the  "rice-bird,"  from  the 
character  of  his  diet,  and  in  the  Middle  States 
on  his  migrations  the  "  reed-bird." 

I  accidentally  discovered  only  two  of  them 
this  summer  in  watching  a  large  flock  of  red- 
winged  blackbirds,  with  whom  they  seemed  to 
have  fallen  in  company,  and  it  was  then  too 
late  in  the  season  to  witness  and  hear  their  pe- 

236 


August 

culiar  acrobatic  vocalization.  This  is  the  most 
beautiful  creature  in  black  and  white  to  be 
found  among  our  song-birds,  and  as  far  as  I 
could  observe,  happily  unconscious  o?  his  fine 
looks.  As  one  compares  the  male,  attired  in 
glossy  black,  and  so  curiously  but  elegantly 
decorated  in  buff  and  white,  with  the  dingy, 
lustreless,  ginghamed  female,  it  looks  like  fresh 
evidence  that  the  ways  of  Providence  are  un- 
equal. It  being  my  misfortune  that  the  bobo- 
link's ways  and  mine  have  converged  so  little 
in  the  past,  I  shall  sedulously  seek  him  out, 
trusting  he  will  not  be  averse  to  receiving  me 
among  his  numerous  list  of  friends  and  admir- 
ers. 


In  the  same  field  where  I  found  the  bobo- 
links it  was  haying-time ;  and  as  I  roamed 
about  (in  criminal  idleness,  from  an  agricultu- 
ral point  of  view),  I  overheard  one  farmer  call 
out  to  another,  "What  is  that  fellow  looking 
at,  over  there?"  <(  O,  the  birds!"  was  the 
reply.  "  That  is  another  of  those  fellows  from 
the  city  !  "  I  was  in  doubt,  from  the  tone  in 
which  this  was  said,  which  of  the  three  he  held 
in  greatest  contempt — the  birds,  the  city,  or 

237 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


myself.  His  sweeping  remark  very  skilfully 
laid  us  all  pretty  nearly  equally  low.  As  a 
candid  expression  of  opinion  I  heard  nothing 
superior  to  it  all  summer. 

But  I  have  an  easy  and  reasonable  revenge  in 
remarking,  how  like  the  unappreciated  pearls 
mentioned  in  Scripture  are  the  beauties  of  nat- 
ure in  the  eyes  of  the  average  soil-tiller.  With 
all  due  regard  for  the  many  notable  exceptions 
(perhaps  sufficient  to  prevent  any  sweeping  al- 
legations), how  often,  nevertheless,  do  we  find 
the  farmer  not  only  without  sympathy,  but 
with  an  undisguised  contempt,  for  any  stray 
scientist  or  artist — for  anyone  in  fact  whom  he 
finds  crossing  his  domains  with  his  line  of  vis- 
ion lying  higher  than  potatoes  and  corn. 

In  view  of  the  fact  that  a  farmer's  life  in  its 
essential  character  is  undeniably  poetic,  allur- 
ing many  in  the  various  learned  professions 
with  the  hope  that  before  they  end  their  days 
they  may  be  able,  in  some  measure,  to  adopt 
this  most  primitive  and  natural  pursuit ;  why  is 
it  that  those  who  actually  cultivate  the  soil  so 
generally  develop  only  the  dull  and  prosy  side 
of  life?  No  other  occupation  presents  the 
ideal  and  the  real  side  of  it  in  such  diametrical 
opposition.  In  the  acres  of  vegetables,  broad 
238 


August 

fields  of  waving  grain,  the  smell  of  new-mown 
hay,  the  running  brook,  the  hills  and  plains, 
where  one  hears  at  intervals  the  lowing  of  the 
herd  and  the  hum  of  insects, 

"And  merry  larks  are  ploughmen's  clocks," 

— in  these  daily  associations,  and  with  the  qui- 
etness brooding  over  a  farmer's  life,  what  can 
there  be  to  contract  his  sympathies,  shorten 
his  outlook,  and  harden  him  to  all  the  finer  in- 
fluences of  nature  ? 

An  eminent  English  writer  somewhat  dispar- 
ages this  class  of  laborers,  in  alluding  to  "  the 
honesty  and  the  narrow-mindedness  of  the  agri- 
culturalists. "  It  is  a  little  anomalous  that  sound 
morals  and  narrow  minds  should  develop  out  of 
the  same  soil,  like  the  self-same  fountain  send- 
ing forth  sweet  water  and  bitter.  It  would  be 
unreasonable  to  expect  that,  without  special  in- 
tellectual training,  this  honorable  class  of  peo- 
ple would  in  any  systematic  manner,  and  in  a 
scientific  spirit,  contemplate  the  objects  and 
operations  of  nature.  But  it  would  seem  as  if 
there  might  be  a  peculiar  responsiveness  to 
those  influences  that  come,  not  through  books 
and  technical  training,  but  absorbed  impercep- 
tibly from  a  permanently  surrounding  atmos- 

239 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


phere,  developing  at  least  a  spirit  of  poetry, 
and  refining  the  sentiment,  if  not  enlarging 
the  mind.  There  are  notable  instances  where 
pastoral  life  has  produced  such  results.  That 
these  instances  are  exceptional,  can  only  be  re- 
garded as  one  of  the  proofs  that,  as  the  elec- 
trician would  say,  between  senses  and  sus- 
ceptibilities there  is  no  "short  circuit,"  or  at 
best  only  an  insufficient  connection,  and  that 
we  must  expect  sentiment  to  wait  upon  intel- 
lect, and  the  technically  uneducated  to  be  apa- 
thetic. 

It  is  not  at  all  unlikely  that  Wordsworth 
may  have  been  on  some  occasion  nettled  by 
the  rude  jostling  of  a  prosaic  nature,  causing 
him  in  one  of  his  poems  to  represent  a  rural 
resident  as  saying : 

"These  Tourists,  heaven  preserve  us!   needs  must 

live 

A  profitable  life  :  some  glance  along, 
Rapid  and  gay  as  if  the  earth  were  air. 
And  they  were  butterflies  to  wheel  about 
Long  as  the  summer  lasted  :  some,  as  wise, 
Perched  on  the  forehead  of  a  jutting  crag, 
Pencil  in  hand  and  book  upon  the  knee, 
Will  look  and  scribble,  scribble  on  and  look, 
Until  a  man  might  travel  twelve  stout  miles, 
Or  reap  an  acre  of  his  neighbor's  corn." 

240 


BANK   SWALLOW 


August 

In  view  of  my  experience  on  more  than  one 
occasion,  there  can  be  no  unkind  insinuation  in 
the  suggestion  that  if  "  one  of  those  fellows 
from  the  city,"  wandering  through  some  farm- 
ing district,  notes  a  novel  effect  of  nature  in 
earth  or  air,  or  espies  a  strange  plant  or  a  rare 
bird,  he  will  soon  discover  that  he  is  full  as 
likely  to  have  his  inquiries  pleasantly  and  in- 
telligently solved  by  applying  to  someone  else 
than  the  occupant  of  the  grounds.  Each  one 
knows  best  the  inevitable  drudgery  of  his  own 
vocation,  but  of  all  pursuits  there  seems  to  be 
none  that  holds  its  follower  in  the  thraldom  of 
a  more  jaded  and  spiritless  service  than  that  in- 
trinsically noblest  of  all  callings,  soil-culture. 


When  Nature  made  the  blue  jay  she  must 
have  done  it  as  an  object-lesson,  to  show  how 
greatly  good  looks  will  always  be  discounted  by 
ill-manners.  "  What  a  handsome  creature  !  " 
one  will  say,  before  he  knows  him.  "  What  a 
rascal!"  after  he  knows  him.  A  more  pol- 
ished knave  than  its  congener  the  crow,  one 
will  be  likely  to  have  even  less  respect  for  it  by 
as  much  as  its  first  impression  is  more  favor- 
able, and  its  claims  more  pretentious.  Who- 
241 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


ever  has  heard  its  discordant  cry  sounding 
through  the  woods,  noted  its  half  defiant,  half 
guilty  air  as'  it  slinks  among  the  trees,  and 
caught  it  in  the  barbarous  act  of  destroying  the 
eggs  or  killing  the  young  of  other  birds,  will 
only  ask  contemptuously,  with  Shakespeare, 

"  What !  is  the  jay  more  precious  than  the  lark, 
Because  his  feathers  are  more  beautiful  ?  " 

And  he  is  indeed  a  beauty,  with  that  rich  ex^ 
panse  of  blue  that  looks  like  a  bit  of  sky  flutter- 
ing among  the  trees.  It  is  an  unusual  color 
among  our  birds,  and  I  have  somewhere  read 
that  it  is  never  found  in  the  birds  of  England. 
With  us  the  jay  is  the  most  conspicuous  in- 
stance, and  we  have  besides  the  blue-bird,  the 
black-throated  blue,  and  the  blue  yellow-backed 
warblers,  one  or  two  other  warblers  with  a 
noticeable  trace  of  it,  the  indigo-bird,  and  the 
blue  grosbeak,  which  is  almost  indigo,  but  rare- 
ly found  so  far  north  as  New  York. 

Different  as  the  jay's  note  is  from  that  of 
the  crow,  it  resembles  it  in  the  characteristic 
hoarseness  of  the  latter,  and  certain  anatomical 
minutiae  have  caused  science  to  put  them  in 
the  same  family,  along  with  ravens,  rooks, 
daws,  and  magpies.  In  his  treatment  of  othei 
242 


August 

birds  and  in  his  thievish  propensities,  the  jay  is 
a  general  nuisance,  and  with  the  exception  of 
his  fine  plumage,  the  purpose  of  his  creation  is 
quite  as  mysterious  as  that  of  some  human  in- 
dividuals. 

To  turn  to  a  humbler  but  more  satisfying 
species,  there  is  no  bird  that  gathers  into 
melody  the  reposeful  sentiment  of  quiet  coun- 
try life  at  evening,  when  Nature  seems  in  a 
sabbatic  mood,  like  the  little  vesper  sparrow  or 
bay-winged  bunting,  chanting  a  most  refreshing 
cadence  in  the  cool  of  the  day,  to  banish  the 
memory  of  its  heat  and  burden.  It  has  a  char- 
acterless, threadbare  sort  of  garb,  the  conven- 
tional sparrow-suit,  but  is  quite  readily  distin- 
guished from  its  kindred  by  the  pure  white 
outer  tail-feathers  prominently  displayed  as  it 
flies  along  a  little  in  advance  of  the  traveller 
through  open  fields  and  country  roads.  There 
is  something  in  its  tone  that  links  it  with  the 
sprightly  song  sparrow,  but  how  different  the 
mood,  and  the  effect  upon  the  listener !  The 
song  sparrow  so  cheery  and  ecstatic,  the  vesper 
sparrow  so  serene  and  pastoral,  and  its  tone  so 
pure,  the  last  phrase  of  its  simple  melody  with 
such  a  luscious,  oily  smoothness  and  delicacy  ; 
perhaps  pensive,  but  not  at  all  shadowed  by  sad- 

243 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


ness.  Its  influence  is  like  that  of  a  placid 
stream,  whose  gentle  current  serves  to  rest 
rather  than  arouse  the  mind.  If  the  song  spar- 
row typifies  the  morning,  the  vesper  sparrow 
represents  the  quiet  evening  that  follows  a  well- 
spent  day.  And  yet — so  do  all  nobler  moods 
blend  and  enhance  each  other — I  have  been 
hardly  less  pleased  with  the  gentle  serenade  of 
this  evening-bird  at  earliest  dawn,  through  the 
summer,  as  it  perched  on  a  telegraph  wire  in 
front  of  my  window ;  while  throughout  the  day, 
in  quiet  walks  through  lane  and  pasture,  it  most 
delightfully  punctuates  the  silence. 

While  we  are  in  the  mood  of  humble  things, 
we  cannot  fail  to  revert  to  that  unassuming  and 
ever-present  summer  friend,  like  a  neat  and 
modest  weed  that  thrives  in  every  path — "  the 
chipper."  Without  a  song,  save  in  its  heart, 
from  twig  and  fence  the  live-long  summer,  it  has 
done  its  best  with  its  one  note — its  one  talent — 
to  bring  cheer  into  the  world ;  and  justice  de- 
mands that  it  be  judged  by  its  effort  rather  than 
by  its  accomplishment. 

A  night  and  twilight  sound  that  always  makes 
one  pause  and  listen  is  the  call  of  the  whippoor- 
will,  a  bird  most  rarely  seen,  yet  probably  famil- 
iar to  every  one  by  name.  By  day  it  lingers  in 
244 


August 

secluded  places,  on  the  ground  or  perching  on 
the  lower  branches,  and  in  the  night,  insect- 
ivorous like  its  congener  the  night-hawk,  it 
sallies  forth  in  quest  of  prey  upon  the  wing; 
but  whereas  the  night-hawk  roams  about  far  up 
in  the  sky,  the  whippoorwill  remains  near  the 
ground,  and  is  besides  strictly  a  nocturnal  bird 
like  the  owls.  Audubon,  in  his  account  of  this 
bird,  says,  "  Its  flight  is  so  light  and  noiseless, 
that  while  it  is  passing  within  a  few  feet  of  a 
person,  the  motion  of  its  wings  is  not  heard  by 
him,  and  merely  produces  a  gentle  undulation 
in  the  air.  During  all  this  time  it  utters  a  low 
murmuring  sound,  by  which  alone  it  can  be  dis- 
covered in  the  dark  when  passing  within  a  few 
yards  of  one,  and  which  I  have  often  heard 
when  walking  or  riding  through  the  barrens  at 
night. ' ' 

One  of  these  birds  was  in  the  woods  opposite 
my  house :  possibly  there  were  two,  but  as  I 
could  never  find  them,  and  as  they  never  inter- 
rupted each  other  in  conversation,  I  had  no 
means  of  proving  the  duality. 

A  writer,  in  speaking  of  the  chimes  of  a  cer- 
tain town  in  Europe,  says — ' '  Day  and  night  are 
set  to  music."  It  is  equally  true  that  in  nature 
day  and  night  are  set  to  music,  but  with  a  more 
245 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


characteristic  difference  in  the  music  of  the  two 
seasons  than  is  ever  produced  by  artificial  chimes. 
The  sounds  of  night  are  quite  as  apt  to  the  oc- 
casion as  those  of  day.  What  could  be  more 
ill-timed  in  the  darkness  than  the  clear  whistle 
of  the  white-throat,  or  the  warble  of  the  purple 
finch?  Neither  could  the  sombre  call  of  owl, 
and  whippoorwill,  and  night-hawk  blend  with 
full  sunlight.  Crickets  and  katydids  are  vo- 
cal undulations  of  darkness,  and  the  croaking  of 
frogs,  to  be  most  effective,  must  have  a  back- 
ground of  gloom  and  water.  Daylight  is  ac- 
companied by  vivacious,  ringing  tones  ;  night, 
by  harsh,  strident,  and  hoarse  noises.  The  rob- 
in stands  sentinel  at  the  gates  of  day  and  night, 
his  mellow  warble  greeting  the  first  gleam  of 
morning  light,  and  bidding  a  farewell  when 
day  is-  done. 


Almost  always,  in  my  rambles  in  one  direc- 
tion, I  could  hear,  and  often  see,  that  not  un- 
common but  irregularly  distributed  bird,  the 
Virginia  partridge— a  good  -  looking,  gamey 
specimen  (gamey  in  the  flesh,  not  in  the  spir- 
it), and  familiarly  known  as  "Bob-white" — 
so-called  from  the  fact  that  the  whistled  note  of 
246 


August 

the  bird  strongly  resembles  that  name,  which  is 
commonly  uttered  twice.  As  one  hears  this 
masculine  name  called  again  and  again,  with 
no  response,  he  would  infer  that  it  is  uttered  by 
the  female,  and  that  ' '  Bob  ' '  is  very  indiffer- 
ent and  ill-mannered  to  make  no  reply.  But 
it  should  be  remembered  that  in  the  feathered 
world  loquacity  is  the  characteristic  of  the  male, 
and  not  of  the  female,  so  that  these  loud  ring- 
ing notes  from  the  pasture  will  be  rightfully 
attributed  to  him  rather  than  to  her. 

The  color  of  the  bird  is  so  complicated  as  to 
be  difficult  of  exact  description  ;  but  the  im- 
pression at  a  distance  is  that  of  a  reddish- 
brown  ;  the  head  of  the  male  with  black  and 
white  trimmings  which  the  female  modestly 
foregoes.  Its  length  is  about  that  of  the  robin, 
but  with  a  succulent,  meaty  build  that  makes  it 
appear  larger.  Wherever  it  resorts  it  is  per- 
manent almost  the  year  round,  being  said  to 
retire  toward  the  sea-shore  for  two  or  three 
weeks  in  the  fall,  after  which  it  returns  to  its 
original  haunts. 

Wilson  gives  an  interesting  account  of  the 
stratagem  of  the  partridge  when,  as  she  leads 
about  her  family,  becoming  aware  of  danger, 
she  uses  "  every  artifice  she  is  mistress  of  to 

247 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


entice  the  person  into  pursuit  of  herself;  utter- 
ing at  the  same  time  certain  peculiar  notes  of 
alarm,  well  understood  by  the  young,  who  dive 
separately  among  the  grass,  and  secrete  them- 
selves till  the  danger  is  over ;  and  the  parent 
having  decoyed  the  pursuer  to  a  safe  distance, 
returns  by  a  circuitous  route,  to  collect  and  lead 
them  off.  This  well-known  manoeuvre,  which 
nine  times  in  ten  is  successful,  is  honorable  to 
the  feelings  and  judgment  of  the  bird,  but  a 
severe  satire  on  man.  The  affectionate  moth- 
er, as  if  sensible  of  the  avaricious  cruelty  of  his 
nature,  tempts  him  with  a  larger  prize,  to  save 
her  more  helpless  offspring ;  and  pays  him,  as 
avarice  and  cruelty  ought  always  to  be  paid, 
with  mortification  and  disappointment. ' ' 

Having  accorded  the  due  meed  of  praise  to 
the  female,  in  the  foregoing  account,  it  is  only 
fair  that  I  should  do  equal  justice  to  her  lord 
and  master,  by  quoting  the  following  eulogy 
from  another  writer,  who  says  of  him,  "  He  is 
willing  to  take  any  amount  of  the  family  re- 
sponsibility. Nature  cannot  ask  too  much  of 
him :  he  will  whistle  to  two  or  three  wives  if 
necessary ;  and  he  will  even  accept  the  law  of 
Moses,  and  assume  the  part  of  husband  toward 
his  brother's  widow.  Should  his  wife  propose 
248 


August 

a  family  of  fifteen  instead  of  nine,  he  does  not 
complain  ;  and,  morever,  having  escorted  his 
young  family  about  for  a  short  time,  he  is  ready 
to  go  through  this  once  or  even  twice  more. 
In  fact,  he  carries  his  amiability  and  industry 
so  far  as  often  to  introduce  a  half-grown  family 
to  the  rigors  of  winter,  so  that  it  is  not  uncom- 
mon to  find  a  covey  of  these  little  '  cheepers, ' 
when  hardly  able  to  fly,  even  in  November." 
He  is  thus  a  pattern  of  mingled  patience  and 
gallantry  such  as  is  seldom  equalled. 


249 


September 


"  Tinting  the  wild  grape  with  her  dewy  fingers, 
Till  the  cool  emerald  turns  to  amethyst." 

Sarah  Helen  Whitman 


SEPTEMBER 

JITH  September  begins  the  first  move- 
ment of  ebb-tide,  made  apparent 
partly  by  the  complete  disappear- 
ance of  a  few  species  of  birds,  but 
still  more  by  the  gradual  gathering  of  the  gre- 
garious varieties  into  large  flocks,  to  wander 
hither  and  thither  until  the  full  time  for  mi- 
gration arrives. 

Almost  the  first  species  that  we  lose  sight  of 
is  the  summer  yellow  bird,  which  leaves  very 
promptly  at  the  beginning  of  the  month,  its 
departure  the  more  evident  because  it  is  so 
ubiquitous  through  the  summer.  The  crow- 
blackbirds — the  vampires  of  the  Park — disap- 
peared at  the  same  time,  not  so  tender,  how- 
ever, as  to  be  frightened  away  by  the  first 
autumn  chill,  like  the  yellow  warbler,  for  they 
are  among  the  first  to  arrive  in  early  spring, 
and  are  tough  birds  in  every  sense ;  but  from 
now  until  late  in  the  fall,  when  they  retire  to 
th3  South,  they  are  gathered  in  even  larger 

253 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


flocks  than  during  the  summer,  and  are  leading 
a  tramp's  life  as  they  roam  about  in  search  of 
food.  One  of  the  most  striking  instances  of 
such  an  assembling  of  great  numbers  preparatory 
to  migration,  is  that  of  the  white-breasted  swal- 
low, in  speaking  of  which  Mr.  Maynard  says 
that  they  gather  ' '  upon  the  salt  marshes  dur- 
ing the  latter  part  of  August  and  first  of  Sep- 
tember, literally  by  millions :  the  air  is  so 
completely  filled  with  them  that  it  is  almost  im- 
possible to  discharge  a  gun  without  killing 
some."  Anyone  in  the  country  can  hardly 
fail  to  notice  also  the  large  flocks  of  red-winged 
blackbirds  flying  about  at  this  time,  and  in 
August  also,  conspicuous  objects  both  on  ac- 
count of  size  and  their  chattering  noise. 

As  a  general  thing  .(with  some  exceptions,  of 
course)  the  earliest  migrants  in  spring  are  the 
latest  in  autumn,  and  the  latest  in  spring  the 
earliest  in  autumn,  and  a  little  reflection  will 
show  the  reason  of  this.  Crackles,  robins,  blue- 
birds, song  sparrows,  fox  sparrows,  and  hermit 
thrushes  are  among  the  first  to  come,  and  the 
last  to  disappear,  while  the  less  hardy  species, 
and  those  whose  food-supply  is  conditioned  upon 
much  warmer  weather,  arrive  late  and  depart 
early,  such  as  many  of  the  finches  and  warblers. 

254 


RED-WINGED    BLACKBIRD 


September 

From  the  middle  of  June  to  the  middle  of 
September  the  advantages  of  the  Park  (and  of 
any  other  locality  similarly  circumstanced)  for 
the  naturalist  are  slight.  Indeed,  one  is  likely 
to  see  more  there  in  mid-winter  than  in  mid- 
summer. For,  although  the  number  of  winter 
species  is  quite  inconsiderable  as  compared 
with  those  of  summer  under  equally  favorable 
circumstances,  yet  such  a  spot  as  the  Park  is  a 
favorite  one  in  the  coldest  weather,  not  only  on 
account  of  the  abundance  and  variety  of  trees, 
shrubs,  and  flowering  plants  affording  varied 
nutriment  in  their  store  of  insects,  larvae,  seeds, 
and  berries,  but  because  of  the  quiet  that  pre- 
vails at  that  season,  when  pleasure-grounds  are 
free  from  the  throng  of  promenaders  and  the 
shouts  of  children,  and  afford  that  repose  of 
nature  without  which  birds  can  hardly  be  in- 
duced to  frequent  any  locality,  however  at- 
tractive in  other  respects.  As  warm  weather 
approaches,  and  the  walks  in  all  directions  be- 
come little  better  than  public  thoroughfares, 
and  often  quite  as  noisy,  the  most  of  the  birds 
very  wisely  withdraw  to  more  sequestered 
places,  and  the  current  of  life  runs  low  until 
it  expands  again  in  the  fall.  During  this  peri- 
od one  can  find  in  the  Ramble  little  else  than 

2SS 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


the  redstart,  the  yellow  warbler,  the  robin,  cat- 
bird, red-eyed  and  warbling  vireos,  song  spar- 
row, chipper,  purple  grackle,  and  pewee,  and 
must  look  in  the  more  secluded  portions  of  the 
Park  for  the  cardinal  grosbeak,  oriole,  gold- 
finches, and  wood  thrush. 

The  fall  migrations  are  in  several  respects 
different  from,  and  far  less  satisfactory  than, 
those  of  spring.  Many  of  the  migrants  even  in 
April  were  in  full  song,  and  the  exhibition  of 
their  powers  given  by  the  white-throated  and 
the  fox  sparrows,  the  ruby-crowned  kinglets, 
and  a  few  of  the  warblers,  could  not  be  sur- 
passed in  their  June  concerts  in  the  woods  of 
Maine  and  Canada.  But  there  is  almost  a 
touch  of  sadness  in  the  comparative  silence  with 
which  these  same  birds  return  to  us  in  the  fall. 
The  occasional  song  one  hears  from  them  at 
this  time  is  almost  as  withered  as  the  dead 
leaves  among  which  they  are  continually  pick- 
ing. 

And  in  other  ways  how  different  the  passage 
of  birds  in  May  from  that  in  September  !  With 
what  tiny  impetuosity  the  successive  squadrons 
pour  in  from  the  south,  anchoring  here  and 
there  for  a  few  days,  then  up  and  away.  They 
all  seem  in  the  flush  of  youth,  and  their  extreme 
256 


September 

delight  is  manifest  in  every  motion  and  sound. 
But  by  autumn  this  has  become  mellowed  into 
quietness  and  deliberation.  Their  spirits 
change  with  the  times.  In  spring  the  foliage, 
too,  comes  forth  with  a  bound — a  spring — and 
an  entire  tree  will  sometimes  be  decked  with 
verdure  or  bloom  almost  in  a  day.  In  autumn 
the. leaves  fall  gradually,  with  a  sort  of  ripe  re- 
flection, just  as  the  summer  birds  steal  away  a 
few  at  a  time,  and  we  hardly  know  when  they 
are  gone ;  while  the  migrants  from  the  north 
come  in  small  and  straggling  flocks,  and  in  a 
few  days  silently  go  south.  There  is  no  spring- 
ecstasy  in  the  waning  year.  It  is  not  exactly 
a  mood  of  melancholy ;  rather  it  is  like  the 
equanimity  and  repose  of  maturity.  They  are 
only  short-lived  little  creatures  at  the  longest, 
and  they  would  burn  out  quicker  than  they  do, 
if  after  a  period  of  such  intense  life  and  high 
pressure  they  did  not  annually  bank  their  fires 
early. 

Another  reason  for  the  unsatisfactoriness  of 
the  fall  -  passage  is  the  much  more  limited 
number  of  species  one  is  likely  to  see.  My 
own  record  for  September  is  less  than  half  the 
extent  of  my  May  list ;  and  while  this  may  not 
be  the  average  proportion  for  the  two  months 
257 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


in  all  places,  the  spring  observations  are  al- 
ways likely  to  be  considerably  in  excess  of 
those  in  fall.  As  before  remarked,  a  few  spe- 
cies seem  to  take  a  more  inland  route  in  one 
direction  than  in  the  other,  and  among  those 
that  follow  the  same  route  at  both  seasons  there 
seems  to  be  more  lingering  by  the  way  in 
spring. 

Still  another  difference,  making  the  identifi- 
cation of  species  far  more  difficult  in  fall,  is  the 
intermixture  of  the  young  on  their  first  journey 
southward,  in  their  immature  and  somewhat  in- 
determinate plumage.  In  some  cases  the  males 
do 'not  attain  "  full  dress  "  until  the  third  year, 
and  probably  never  until  the  second,  and  in 
the  process  of  development  the  young  of  both 
sexes  strongly  resemble  the  less  characteristical- 
ly marked  female. 

Again,  besides  being  more  easily  observed  in 
the  leafless  shrubbery  and  trees  of  spring,  they 
are  more  approachable  at  that  season  than  at 
any  other  time.  The  white-throated  sparrow, 
so  shy  in  summer  as  often  to  elude  the  most 
careful  search,  and  revealing  itself  only  by  its 
song,  is  very  unsuspicious  in  the  spring.  The 
instinct  of  all  animals  impels  them  to  be  espe- 
cially on  their  guard  during  the  season  when 
258 


September 

their  young  are  produced,  and  the  fate  of  the 
species  peculiarly  hangs  in  the  balance.  But 
by  a  glorious  contradiction,  while  most  timid 
and  seclusive  during  the  nesting  period,  this  is 
also  the  time  when  threatened  danger  to  their 
young  will  make  them  most  fearless.  With  a 
bravery  that  is  pathetic,  they  will  endeavor  to 
protect  the  birdlings,  often  utterly  forgetful  of 
their  own  safety  in  anxiety  for  their  more  help- 
less offspring.  How  resolutely  the  female 
sticks  to  the  nest  during  incubation,  showing 
her  intense  alarm  only  in  the  wild  glance  of  the 
eye  and  a  paralyzed  motionlessness.  Prob- 
ably, at  such  times  death  itself  would  not  be 
more  painful  than  the  living  terror  they  often 
experience.  There  would  be  something  ex- 
tremely comical  in  the  puny  rage  sometimes 
manifested  by  the  tiny  creatures  toward  their 
giant  foes,  did  not  the  impulse  prompting  it 
command  our  noblest  admiration. 

In  musical  phrase,  the  period  from  January  to 
July  is  a  crescendo — that  from  July  to  January, 
a  decrescendo.  In  many  ways  the  record  of 
the  last  six  months  is  the  same  as  that  of  the 
first  six,  read  backward  ;  the  second  half  of  the 
year  saying  of  the  first  half,  ' '  It  must  increase, 
I  must  decrease."  Nature  shows  a  grand  cli- 
259 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


max  and  anti-climax,  as  the  sun  annually 
creeps  up  from  its  low  southerly  circuit  to  the 
zenith  and  back  again,  making  the  coldness, 
desolation,  and  stillness  of  January  culminate  in 
the  warmth,  the  exuberance  of  plant  and  ani- 
mal life,  and  the  full  chorus  of  birds  in  June, 
only  to  relapse  again  into  the  frozen  and  dreary 
silence  of  mid-winter.  It  is  the  balmy  breath 
of  spring  that  wafts  hither  the  migrants  from 
the  south — the  sharp  chill  of  autumn  that  sum- 
mons them  from  the  north.  The  fall-transit  is 
in  the  mood  of  the  season ;  only  a  faint  re- 
minder of  the  holiday  procession  in  May  ;  and 
the  volume  of  life  suddenly  but  faintly  swelling 
and  disappearing  at  that  time,  is  like  the  last 
expiring  brightness  of  the  candle,  except  for 
the  few  and  welcome  species  that  tide  us  over 
the  winter. 


The  procession  of  returning  migrants  seems 
to  have  been  led  this  year  by  the  black-throated 
green  warblers,  which  I  found  quite  abundant 
on  the  i yth,  eagerly  exploring  the  branches  of 
pine  trees,  and  uttering  their  musical  chirp  that 
is  in  such  marked  contrast  to  the  common- 
place note  of  the  sparrow.  The  males  are  not 
260 


September 

such  glittering  beauties  as  in  spring,  for  they 
fade  somewhat  as  doth  the  leaf:  the  golden 
yellow  is  tarnished,  and  the  jet-black  restricted 
and  shabby,  and  all  in  all  they  look  quite  en 
deshabille.  The  largest  part  of  the  troop  con- 
sists of  females  and  the  young,  which  to  ordina- 
ry observation  are  quite  indistinguishable,  and 
lack  the  characteristic  features  of  the  males.  A 
single  "  black-throated  blue  "  was  in  their  com- 
pany. A  few  days  later  came  the  black-and- 
white  creeper,  the  Blackburnian,  and  a  flock  of 
yellow-rumped  warblers.  At  one  of  the  pools 
the  "solitary"  sandpiper  was  bobbing  his 
head,  much  like  the  spotted  sandpiper  which 
was  here  for  a  week  in  spring,  but  with  the 
under  parts,  excepting  breast,  a  clear  white.  I 
think  these  are  the  only  two  species  of  fresh- 
water sandpipers  in  this  region. 

I  exchanged  glances  with  the  Maryland  yel- 
low-throat, as  beautiful  as  in  spring,  and  near 
him  was  a  "blue  yellow -back,"  somewhat 
dingy,  but  evidently  a  mature  male.  At  this 
time  also  came  the  ruby-crowned  kinglet,  but 
it  was  the  crownless  female,  and  our  monoto- 
nous friend  the  brown  creeper,  who  with  the 
perseverance  of  the  saints  has  begun  his  win- 
ter's work  just  where  he  left  it  off,  at  the  bottom 
261 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


of  the  ladder.  There  is  very  little  interest  in 
watching  any  creature  supposed  to  have  a  mind 
and  will  of  his  own,  when  you  always  know 
just  what  he  is  going  to  do.  On  the  23d  I  was 
glad  to  find  the  white-throated  sparrow,  for  he 
has  come  to  spend  the  winter,  if  not  individu- 
ally, at  least  specifically.  Those  now  here  will 
doubtless  be  replaced  by  later  arrivals  from  the 
north. 

There  is  a  noticeable  lack  of  timidity  in  the 
young  of  all  birds,  wi  h"  less  than  six  months' 
experience  of  the  world,  as  compared  with 
their  elders,  but  such  innocent  trustfulness 
wears  off  by  the  second  season. 

The  golden  -  winged  woodpecker,  another 
winter  resident,  came  back  the  last  of  the 
month,  and  at  their  old  resort  on  the  Isl- 
and I  found  the  night  herons,  old  and  young. 
It  would  add  to  the  interest  of  seeing  all  these 
returning  migrants,  if  they  only  bore  a  legible 
and  precise  record  of  their  summer  wanderings, 
carrying  our  minds  back  to  the  White  Moun- 
tains, the  forests  and  lakes  of  Maine,  the 
scenery  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  or  the  colder  reg- 
ions of  Labrador. 

The  oven  -  bird,  strutting  about  in  mock 
dignity  like  a  child  in  his  father's  boots,  is 
262 


September 

resting  here  on  his  long  journey,  and  migrant 
thrushes  are  becoming  numerous.  The  red- 
eyed  vireo  is  abundant,  but  I  can  no  longer 
criticise  his  song,  and  the  redstart  carries  him- 
self with  his  jaunty  air,  seeming  to  think  he  is 
making  a  great  impression. 

Several  cold  and  cloudy  days,  such  as  spur 
the  birds  southward,  followed  by  a  bright,  warm 
morning  that  limbered  their  muscles  and  light- 
ened their  spirits,  gave  the  Ramble  a  touch 
of  spring  liveliness  on  the  28th,  when  I  found 
seventeen  species  —  the  olive-backed  thrush, 
thrasher,  robin,  song,  white  -  throated,  and 
chipping  sparrows,  five  species  of  warblers, 
flicker,  snow  -  bird,  red  -  eyed  vireo,  brown 
creeper,  and  the  two  kinglets.  As  far  as  zips 
and  chirps  can  go  they  were  voluble  enough, 
but  otherwise  utterly  silent,  excepting  a  single 
white-throat,  who  seemed  to  be  ejecting  the 
remains  of  a  last  season's  song,  which,  if  an  in- 
dex of  his  feelings,  proved  him  to  be  in  a  most 
doleful  state  of  mind.  The  golden-crowned 
kinglet,  appearing  to-day  for  the  first  time,  is 
the  little  creature  on  whom,  next  to  the  chicka- 
dee, the  hilarity  of  the  Park  chiefly  depends 
during  the  bleak,  stern  months  to  come.  He 
radiates  an  atmosphere  of  friendliness  and  good 
263 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


cheer  which  must  be  evident  to  any  attentive 
observer.  He  is  readily  distinguished  from  the 
other  winter  birds,  whose  notes  are  commonly 
uttered  singly,  by  his  fine  and  sibilant  zee,  zee, 
zee,  which  is  much  more  frequent  than  the  sin- 
gle note. 

September  closed  with  one  of  those  perfect 
autumn  days-ybright,  cool,  and  vigorous,  the 
air  clearer  than  crystal,  and  seeming  doubly 
charged  with  every  healthful  and  inspiriting 
quality — as  rare  as  a  day  in  June,  and  more 
glorious.  It  brought  back  another  winter-resi- 
dent, the  downy  woodpecker  (the  crimson- 
headed  male),  which  I  have  not  seen  since 
April — not  one  of  the  dainty  varieties,  but  a 
busy,  honest  sort  of  bird,  that  always  appears 
to  mind  his  own  affairs  in  an  interested  way, 
without  meddling  with  his  neighbors.  *In  get- 
ting a  living  after  their  peculiar  fashion,  the 
woodpeckers  have  flattened  their  bodies  against 
the  trees  for  so  many  generations  that  it  has  be- 
come chronic  in  their  physique,  giving  them  a 
high-shouldered,  long-waisted  appearance  that 
is  far  from  beautiful.  All  of  which  counts  for 
little  in  comparison  with  their  interesting  hab- 
its, cheerful  manner,  and  winter  companion- 
ship. Near  him  was  the  phcebe,  lingering 
264 


DOWNY    WOODPECKERS 


September 

about  the  water,  quite  an  idler  as  compared 
with  "downy,"  and  still  with  a  melancholy 
eye  to  business.  Among  the  shrubbery  a  sin- 
gle wren  was  darting  about,  and  the  chewink 
was  trying  to  escape  observation  in  the  under- 
brush. The  Park  is  now  flooded  with  white- 
throated  sparrows,  with  their  clean  white  bibs 
on,  probably  driven  hither  by  the  untimely 
cold  and  snow  to  the  north,  while  yellow  - 
rumps  are  numerous,  with  a  sprinkling  of  the 
black-throated  blue  warblers.  I  cannot  refrain 
from  again  expressing  admiration  for  the  chaste 
and  simple  coloring  of  this  delicate  specimen, 
of  pure  white,  blue,  and  black  exquisitely  com- 
bined. Its  quiet  elegance  makes  one  half- 
ashamed  that  he  should  be  so  infatuated  by  the 
'  '  gold,  and  purple,  and  scarlet,  and  fine  twined 
linen"  in  which  many  of  the  species  are  ar- 
rayed. Bright  colors  are  like  whip  and  spur  to 
the  eye  —  exhilarating,  but  not  restful. 


The  most  picturesque  view  in  the  famous  Cen- 
tral Park  is  to  be  had  from  the  foot-bridge  over 
the  lake  at  its  upper  extremity.  On  one  side 
of  the  bridge  is  the  tip-end  of  the  lake,  forming 
a  secluded  basin  with  steep,  rocky  embankments, 

26s 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


hedged  about  by  overarching  trees  and  luxuri- 
ant shrubbery,  and  enriched  in  the  season  with 
purple  and  pink  masses  of  wistaria  and  azalea, 
while  on  the  other  side  the  eye  ranges  over  the 
whole  expanse  of  the  irregular  lake,  flanked  on 
the  right  by  the  massive  and  turreted  "  Dakota," 
its  farther  shore  revealing  a  majestic  row  of  pop- 
lars and  cypresses,  and  beyond  them  a  line  of 
lofty  buildings  looming  up  like  castle  walls  for 
a  solid  background,  and  with  the  two  white 
spires  of  the  Cathedral  pricking  the  sky  in  the 
blue  distance.  A  pair  of  large  night  herons, 
coursing  hither  and  thither  over  the  water, 
give  the  requisite  and  poetic  touch  of  anima- 
tion. 

The  fashionable  world,  luxuriously  parading 
in  elegant  equipages  along  the  great  driveways, 
has  doubtless  been  the  chief  means  whereby  the 
Park  has  attained  its  national  repute  as  a  tri- 
umph of  landscape  gardening  ;  but  its  finest  ef- 
fects are  scattered  along  the  less  frequented  ways, 
and  wealth  will  never  see  them  until  it  goes  afoot. 
Somehow,  too,  one  never  seems  to  get  into  that 
responsive  mood  wherein  Nature  can  make  her 
best  revealments,  until  he  comes  down  from  all 
artificial  elevation,  and  becomes  an  integral  part 
of  all  his  surroundings  by  actual  contact  With 
266 


September 

the  ground,  feeling  a  brotherhood  in  the  trees, 
and  a  subtle  kinship  to  everything  in  the  heav- 
ens above,  in  the  earth  beneath,  and  in  the  waters 
under  the  earth.  Pedestrianism  is  a  method  of 
humbling  one's  self  that  quickly  brings  its  own 
peculiar  exaltation,  thereby  "the  eyes  of  our 
understanding  being  opened,"  and  our  ears  un- 
stopped. In  this  connection  that  gorgeous 
floral  display  is  worthy  of  mention,  that  every 
summer  meets  the  eye  at  the  Pond,  hidden 
among  trees  and  shrubbery — a  floating  acre  of 
Indian  scarlet  water-lilies  (Melumbium  speci- 
osuni),  some  of  whose  blossoms  are  nearly  a  foot 
in  diameter,  with  peltate  "  pads  "  from  one  to 
two  feet  across. 

One  is  sometimes  in  that  mood  wherein  science 
is  simply  an  abomination  unto  him — when  he  is 
fully  content  to  enjoy  the  beauty  of  what  he  sees 
and  hears,  without  asking  or  caring  for  its  cause, 
or  effect,  or  relationship — itself  its  own  sufficient 
reason.  Such  a  person  feels  that  six  days  are 
sufficient  for  the  secularities  of  knowledge,  he 
must  have  a  seventh  wherein,  with  uninterroga- 
tive  contentment,  he  may  luxuriate  in  that  which 
satisfies  purely  the  sentiment.  Some  people  seem 
able  to  see  only  the  scientific  side  of  beauty; 
and  when  looking  at  a  flower,  its  color,  form, 

267 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


and  fragrance  are  of  little  account  in  comparison 
with  the  all-important  questions,  "Is  it  exog- 
enous or  endogenous — is  it  monopetalous  or 
polypetalous  ?  "  Should  they  chance  to  behold 
a  rich  display  of  autumn  foliage,  they  at  once  fall 
to  inquiring  whether  it  is  an  evidence  of  decay 
produced  by  the  action  of  frost,  or  the  legiti- 
mate ripening  of  the  chlorophyl ;  or  with  great 
satisfaction  assert  the  latest  dictum  of  science  on 
that  point.  To  them  a  rare  crystal  means  a 
certain  mathematical  form  and  cleavage ;  while 
the  gorgeous  coloring  of  sunset  clouds  is  chiefly 
a  neat  illustration  of  the  absorption  of  certain 
prismatic  rays  by  the  dense  lower  stratum  of  air. 
Such  folks  are  cold-blooded  analysts,  and  they 
have  their  place.  Taken  in  small  doses  they  are 
very  instructive,  but  as  constant  companions 
they  are  wearing. 


By  the  close  of  the  month  the  landscape  had 
that  peculiar  unkempt  appearance  of  fall,  as  of 
an  old  man  beginning  to  look  untidy.  In  the 
Ramble  and  elsewhere,  the  bloom  was  almost 
confined  to  the  masses  of  composite  flowers, 
white,  and  purple,  and  yellow,  that  run  riot 
among  the  trees,  in  defiance  of  all  rules  of  land- 


September 

scape-gardening.  How  strangely  these  autumn 
flowers  quietly  bide  their  time  through  all  the 
enticing  warmth  of  spring  and  stronger  heat  of 
early  summer,  until,  after  the  year's  decline  has 
begun,  as  if  startled  out  of  their  absent-minded- 
ness, they  suddenly  shoot  up  their  tall  stems,  to 
be  quickly  laden  with  rank  foliage  and  coarse 
blossoms.  It  is  a  sort  of  carnival  of  golden-rods 
and  multitudinous  asters  that  hold  full  sway  in 
this  belated  season,  as  if  they  had  an  instinct 
of  congruity  in  both  herding  together,  and  also 
in  keeping  themselves  apart  from  the  more  deli- 
cate forms  of  life  prevailing  in  spring  and 
summer — playing  the  part  of  the  picturesque 
rabble  that  brings  up  the  rear  of  the  great  an- 
nual procession  of  vegetation. 


269 


October. 


Autumn  beaming  o'er  the  yellow  woods." 
Thomson 


OCTOBER 

one  perhaps  realizes  as  strongly  as 
the  naturalist  (or  he  who  has  the 
spirit  of  the  naturalist,  even  if  too 
modest  to  apply  the  pretentious 
title  to  himself) — no  one  else,  I  say,  feels  so 
keenly  the  characteristic  mood  of  the  several 
seasons  ;  a  mood  and  atmosphere  so  peculiar  to 
itself  as  to  give  to  each  of  the  seasons  much  of 
the  dignity  of  personality. 

Autumn  has  a  mellow,  ripened  glow  dis- 
tinctively its  own.  The  inflection  of  its  cad- 
ence is  downward,  as  that  of  spring  is  upward. 
The  two  seasons  have  all  the  contrast  of  youth 
and  maturity  :  the  symbol  of  the  one,  inquiry  ; 
of  the  other,  assurance.  If  the  jubilant  and  vi- 
vacious song  sparrow  be  a  type  of  spring-time, 
autumn  is  represented  by  the  rich  and  noble  song 
of  the  wood  thrush.  Spring  is  silvery ;  autumn, 
golden.  Even  spring's  climax,  June — queen- 
month  of  all  the  year — is  fairly  rivalled  by  Oc- 
tober's regal  splendor — the  consummation  and 

273 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


fruition  of  spring's  thrilling  promises.  Spring 
is  the  buoyant  morn  ;  autumn,  the  evening  hour 
of  a  fair  summer's  day,  when  level  sunbeams 
here  and  there  sift  through  the  trees,  and  gild 
some  lower  branch  ;  silence  begins  her  nightly 
reign,  and  dewy  coolness  fills  the  air.  And 
autumn  is  better  than  summer,  too;  for  one 
reason,  among  others,  because  more  positive  : 
it  is  culmination,  not  transition.  Its  individu- 
ality is  complete.  It  begins  and  ends  its  own 
story,  whereas  summer  is  a  sort  of  second  vol- 
ume of  spring,  the  sequel  of  a  tale  that  is  grow- 
ing a  little  prolix. 

To  be  sure,  it  is  ebb-tide,  but  we  have  at 
least  passed  the  dull  equipoise  of  summer,  and 
there  is  more  exhilaration  in  going,  even  if 
going  to  destruction,  than  in  tamely  standing 
still.  A  mid-summer  landscape  burns  in  an 
unvaried,  noon-tide  glare ;  while  florid  au- 
tumn's chiaroscuro  is  incomparable.  The  ver- 
tical sun  casts  no  shadows,  and  summer  must  be 
painted  lightly  :  in  water -colors,  rather  than  in 
oils.  The  declining  sun  makes  deep  contrasts 
of  light  and  shade,  and  with  its  ripened  tints 
of  landscape  autumn  must  be  painted  richly 
and  heavily.  Summer  is  strong  in  crops,  weak 
in  poetry.  Perhaps  she  is  the  most  practical 
274 


October 

and  indispensable  of  all  the  seasons,  but  like 
many  practical  and  indispensable  people,  none 
the  less  wearisome  on  that  account.  Summer 
is  an  amiable  season,  and  consequently  rather 
milk -and -watery . 

If  hope  be  the  watchword  of  spring,  faith, 
which  is  the  assurance  of  hope,  is  that  of 
autumn.  Both  seasons  point  forward  :  spring, 
into  this  life;  autumn,  into  the  life  to  come. 
The  voice  of  spring  is  a  joyous,  ringing 
soprano ;  that  of  autumn,  a  deep,  full,  and 
serious  contralto.  And  why  should  we  not  say 
that  icy  and  blustering  winter  is  vigorously 
masculine,  with  the  tone  and  temper  of  a  sonor- 
ous bass? 

In  the  autumnal  season  a  mature  and  serious 
air  overspreads  every  natural  object.  It  is  a 
hushed  and  foreboding  time.  An  expectant 
stillness  pervades  the  landscape,  a  waiting  look 
is  in  the  massive,  slumberous  clouds  that  hang  so 
fixed  and  solid  in  the  clear  blue  sky.  An  al- 
most human  sense  of  life  finds  mute  expression 
in  the  dark,  motionless,  and  almost  contem- 
plative trees ;  there  are  whisperings  sadly  pleas- 
ing in  the  soft  winds,  that  are  never  heard  at 
other  times ;  and  the  rustle  of  the  leaves  has  an 
ominous,  as  well  as  a  retrospective  sound.  It  is 

275 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


peculiarly  the  sunset  season,  with  all  the  solemn 
glories  of  departing  day,  rich  in  its  own  wealth, 
but  richer  in  its  half-revealments  of  the  future. 
It  is  in  October  that  the  parting  rays  of  sun- 
light so  grandly  stream  through  the  western 
sky's  cathedral  windows  of  richly  colored 
clouds,  and  an  unwonted  peace  comes  with  the 
darkness.  Spring  seems  the  fittest  season  where- 
in to  take  up  the  burden  of  life,  and  the  close 
of  a  bright  and  cool  October  day  the  most  fe- 
licitous moment  for  the  soul's  apotheosis.  The 
months  of  autumn  are  too  glorious  for  spring- 
time merriment,  but  whether  they  are  mournful 
or  not,  depends  on  the  reflected  mood  of  one's 
own  heart. 

There  is  invigoration  even  in  the  memory  of 
those  scenes  which  are  re-enacted  at  each  return 
of  harvest  time  : — 

The  crisp,  pure  air,  the  clear  and  mellow  light ; 
The  deep,  cool,  shady  nooks  behind  the  woods  ; 
The  showy  fringe  upon  the  hem  o'  the  year 
Of  purple  asters  and  the  golden-rods  ; 
The  spicy  smell  of  apples  and  wild  grapes 
Along  the  country-road  ;  the  film  of  sound 
Rising  from  myriad  insects  in  the  fields  ; 
The  distant  chorus  of  tumultuous  crows  ; 
The  lowlands  white  with  frost  at  early  morn 
Among  the  yellow,  brown,  and  crimson  hills. 
276 


October 

Whoever  has  missed  September  and  October 
life  in  the  country,  among  the  hills  and  farms, 
has  lost  some  of  the  most  delightful  and  charac- 
teristic scenes  of  all  the  year. 


The  power  of  ventriloquism  possessed  by 
many  birds  is  often  remarked  upon.  It  would 
seem  to  be  an  unconscious  effort  on  their  part ; 
at  least,  we  can  hardly  suppose  that  its  exercise 
is  prompted  by  any  prudential  motive,  as  if  to 
mislead  the  hearer  in  order  to  their  own  safety, 
for  this  purpose  would  be  better  served  by  abso- 
lute silence.  But  whatever  induces  it,  the  ef- 
fect is  often  thoroughly  deceptive,  and  probably 
every  field  ornithologist  has  been  amused  and 
aggravated  by  unsuccessful  attempts  to  locate 
the  origin  of  bird-notes. 

A  striking  instance  of  this  power,  as  possessed 
by  the  pinnated  grouse  or  prairie  hen,  is  cited 
by  Wilson,  who  says  that  its  tone,  when  pro- 
duced within  a  few  rods  of  the  listener,  has  the 
effect  of  a  voice  a  mile  or  two  distant.  A  pe- 
culiar and  rather  annoying  instance  of  the  same 
sort  came  under  my  own  observation  this  sum- 
mer. In  passing  along  a  highway  bordered  by 
a  fresh  clearing  where  a  few  trees  here  and 
277 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


there  had  been  left  standing,  I  was  surprised  by 
what  seemed  to  be  the  responsive  notes  of  two 
birds  apparently  perched  within  a  few  feet  of 
the  road,  and  some  yards  distant  from  each 
other.  The  bird  on  the  right  uttered  two 
notes  (not  of  the  same  pitch),  and  after  a  slight 
pause  was  answered  by  the  bird  on  the  left  with 
two  notes  quite  different  from  the  first.  Here 
was  a  case  of  dialogue  more  pronounced  than 
had  ever  come  within  my  experience.  Fear- 
ing to  frighten  them  when  so  near  me  (as  I 
thought),  I  stood  still  for  a  minute  listening  to 
the  colloquy,  and  endeavoring  to  locate  the 
participants.  The  effect  was  always  the  same, 
and  I  could  have  sworn  there  were  two  birds. 
Failing  to  find  them,  I  approached  cautiously, 
and  the  responsive  music  kept  just  as  far  in  ad- 
vance, until  after  going  some  hundreds  of  feet,  I 
discovered  the  source  of  the  whole  performance 
in  a  single  bird  that  was  still  a  long  distance 
ahead  of  me,  which  instantly  darted  away  as  I 
approached.  Although  I  did  not  identify  the 
gay  deceiver,  I  had  the  meagre  satisfaction  of 
realizing  that  I  had  been  most  neatly  and  com- 
pletely fooled. 

On   another   occasion,  when   I  knew  I  was 
within  a  yard  or  two  of  a  red-eyed  vireo,  his 
278 


October 

notes  were  thrown  back  and  forth  so  realistically 
that  I  could  not  possibly  tell  whether  he  was 
behind  or  before  me  ;  and  again,  when  looking 
for  the  source  of  that  insect-like  tone  that  proved 
to  come  from  the  black-poll  warbler  — 

"  A  sound  so  fine,  there's  nothing  lives 
'Twixt  it  and  silence,"  — 

but  seeming  to  emanate  from  all  directions,  I 
went  backward  and  forward  and  all  around,  at 
my  wits'  end,  until  by  accident  I  looked  up- 
ward ;  and  there  he  was,  hopping  about  on  a 
branch  directly  over  my  head. 

Many  birds  have*  what  singers  call  "great 
carrying  power  "  in  their  voices,  so  that  until 
one  is  familiar  with  a  bird's  tone,  he  is  likely  to 
be  very  much  deceived  as  to  its  volume  and 
distance. 


The  record  of  observations  in  October  is  com- 
monly briefer  than  that  for  September,  for  the 
most  numerous  family  —  the  warblers  —  have  most- 
ly passed  south  ere  this,  and  some  of  the  other 
families  are  only  scatteringly  represented.  The 
swarms  of  migrants  sailing  north  and  south  each 
spring  and  fall  are  much  like  myriad  leaves 
279 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


swept  hither  and  thither  by  the  winds  ;  and  the 
few  that  we  see  are  only  the  scattering  ones  that 
fall  to  the  ground,  to  be  whirled  along  by  the 
next  gust. 

The  male  ruby-crowned  kinglet  is  here,  and 
his  twitterings  seem  just  ready  to  burst  out  into 
that  full  and  delicious  song  that  made  him  so 
welcome  a  visitor  in  the  spring — like  a  blossom 
that  needs  only  the  warmth  and  sunshine  of  one 
more  day  to  make  it  burst  from  its  calyx,  and 
fling  its  petals  wide  open  ;  so  the  kinglet's  song 
seems  on  the  verge  of  ripeness,  and  struggling 
to  be  set  free.  But  it  is  too  late  in  the  season : 
his  lips  are  sealed  till  spring.  With  all  the  re- 
semblance of  the  two  kinglets,  they  are  easily 
distinguished  by  the  head-markings  :  the  gold- 
en-crowned having  the  bla*ck  and  yellow  lines 
in  both  male  and  female,  whereas  in  the  ruby- 
crowned  the  head  has  either  the  simple  dash  of 
scarlet,  or  is  entirely  plain. 

I  found  only  four  warblers  during  the  month 
— the  yellow-rump,  black-throated  green,  black- 
throated  blue,  and  the  black-and-white  creeper. 
Also  the  wood  thrush,  thrasher,  and  red-eyed 
vireo  finally  disappeared.  The  snow-birds  be- 
gan to  be  numerous  toward  the  close  of  the 
month,  and  throughout  October  the  song  spar- 
280 


October 

row  and  white-throat  have  sung  with  considera- 
ble frequency,  and  (judged  by  the  autumn  stand- 
ard) quite  well.  With  the  approach  of  colder 
weather  the  cardinal  grosbeaks  and  goldfinches 
—  the  latter  more  gregarious  in  winter  —  are 
much  more  abundant  than  during  the  summer. 


So  slight  a  thing  as  the  manner  of  a  bird's 
movement  when  on  the  ground  is  worth  atten- 
tion, for  it  sometimes  assists  materially  in  deter- 
mining the  species,  if  seen  only  for  an  instant  or 
at  a  distance.  Birds  have  three  modes  of  pro- 
gression on  foot — walking,  hopping,  and  run- 
ning. The  smaller  birds  are  mostly  hoppers, 
like  the  common  English  sparrow,  wherein  the 
tracks  of  the  two  feet,  if  made  in  the  snow, 
would  be  found  side  by  side.  The  larger  birds, 
like  crows  and  grackles,  adopt  the  more  digni- 
fied method  of  walking,  as  befits  their  size  ;  and 
when  frightened  into  greater  speed  they  take  to 
the  wing.  Rarely  a  small  bird  is  seen  to  walk, 
like  the  golden  -  crowned  thrush,  and  always 
with  ludicrous  effect. 

In  passing  along  a  country-road,  notice  the 
gliding  motion  of  the  grass  finch  or  vesper  spar- 
row, and  of  the  thrasher,  not  frightened  enough 

281 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


to  fly  as  you  approach,  but  discreet  enough  to 
keep  well  in  advance.  They  are  running,  and 
it  is  surprising  with  their  short  legs  how  fast 
they  can  cover  the  ground.  The  robin  some- 
times hops  and  sometimes  runs,  which  is  also 
true  of  some  of  the  sparrows,  but  I  have  never 
seen  any  bird  that  could  adopt  all  three  modes 
of  progression.  Sandpipers  generally  show  a 
curious  mixture  of  walking  and  running,  and 
those  birds  that  are  most  at  home  in  the  water, 
are  the  most  awkward  on  their  feet. 

Even  more  interesting  are  the  graceful  vari- 
eties of  flight  on  the  wing,  as  illustrated  in  the 
long  undulations  of  the  goldfinch,  the  arrow- 
like  course  of  the  spotted  sandpiper,  the  rapid 
flutter  of  wings  in  the  perpendicular  ascent  of 
the  lark,  the  motionless  quivering  and  flashing 
departure  of  the  humming-bird,  the  stately 
sweep  of  wing  in  sea-birds,  and  the  majestic 
sailing  of  hawks  and  eagles. 


To  the  field  ornithologist  birds  will  always  be 
of  interest  chiefly  for  their  powers  of  song,  grace- 
ful ways,  and  fine  plumage ;  but  the  world  is 
coming  by  degrees  to  know  their  immense  util- 
itarian significance:  that  in  the  economy  of 
282 


October 

nature  they  are  an  indispensable  factor  for  the 
welfare  of  vegetation,  and  scavengers  of  the 
most  unique  and  picturesque  sort.  Not  only 
have  the  song-birds  thus  risen  above  the  plane 
of  mere  ornament  and  entertainment,  but  even 
the  hawks,  which  as  a  class  have  hitherto  been 
regarded  as  having  perhaps  the  most  unjustifiable 
existence  of  all  the  feathered  race,  have  recently, 
by  a  systematic  and  thorough  process  of  investi- 
gation, been  shown  to  be  the  victims  of  an  ill- 
founded  prejudice.  And  in  the  end,  upon  the 
theory  which  is  every  year  receiving  fresh  con- 
firmation, that  everything  in  nature  has  its  use, 
it  will  doubtless  be  found  that  crows,  black- 
birds, cedar-birds,  and  the  like,  which  at  cer- 
tain seasons  of  the  year  are  so  annoying  to  the 
farmer  and  the  fruit-grower,  are  yet  affording 
ample  atonement  in  some  as  yet  undiscovered 
way.  The  place  occupied  by  the  birds  in  nat- 
ure's organism  is  thus  of  much  greater  dignity 
and  importance  than  was  formerly  supposed, 
and  it  is  pertinent  to  remind  the  bird-student  of 
these  facts,  which  cannot  fail  to  enhance  his 
previous  admiration  of  the  creatures. 

The  variety  of  service  rendered  to  nature  and 
to  man  by  some  of  the  most  familiar  of  the 
bird-families,  is  well  expressed  by  Mr.  Samuels 

283 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


in  his  "  Birds  of  New  England,"  where  in  the 
course  of  his  remarks  upon  this  point  he  says : 
"  The  warblers  capture  the  insects  that  prey 
on  the  foliage  of  the  trees ;  the  flycatchers 
seize  these  insects  as  they  fly  from  the  trees ; 
the  swallows  capture  those  that  have  escaped 
all  these ;  the  woodpeckers  destroy  them  when 
in  the  larva  state  in  the  wood ;  the  wrens, 
nuthatches,  titmice,  and  creepers  eat  the  eggs 
and  young  that  live  on  and  beneath  the  bark ; 
but  the  thrushes  subsist  on  those  that  destroy 
the  vegetation  on  the  surface  of  the  earth : 
these  seem  designed  by  nature  to  rid  the  sur- 
face of  the  soil  of  noxious  insects  not  often  pur- 
sued by  most  other  birds.  They  destroy  near- 
ly all  kinds  of  grubs,  caterpillars,  and  worms 
that  live  upon  the  greensward  and  cultivated 
soil,  and  large  quantities  of  crickets  and  grass- 
hoppers, before  they  have  become  perfect  in- 
sects. The  grubs  of  locusts,  of  harvest-flies,  and 
of  beetles  which  are  turned  up  by  the  plough 
or  the  hoe,  and  their  pupae  when  emerging 
from  the  soil;  apple-worms,  when  they  leave 
the  fruit,  and  crawl  about  in  quest  of  new  shel- 
ter;  and  those  subterranean  caterpillars,  the 
cut- worms  that  come  out  of  the  earth  to  take 
their  food  —  all  these  and  many  others  are 


October 

eagerly  devoured  by  the  robin  and  other 
thrushes." 

On  account  of  a  prejudice  against  the  robin, 
due  to  his  occasional  depredations  in  the  or- 
chard, I  venture  to  quote  a  passage  from  an  acute 
observer  of  the  habits  of  birds,  Wilson  Flagg, 
who  says,  in  speaking  of  the  robin  :  "  The 
more  I  have  studied  his  habits  the  more  I  am 
convinced  of  his  usefulness.  Indeed,  I  am 
now  fully  persuaded  that  he  is  valuable  beyond 
all  other  species  of  birds,  and  that  his  services 
are  absolutely  indispensable  to  the  farmer  of 
New  England.  Some  persons  believe  that  the 
robin  is  exclusively  a  frugivorous  bird,  and  that 
for  fruit  he  will  reject  all  other  food  that  is 
within  his  reach.  Others  believe  that  his  diet 
consists  about  equally  of  fruits  and  angle- 
worms, but  that  he  is  not  a  general  consumer 
of  insects.  The  truth  is,  the  robin  is  almost 
exclusively  insectivorous,  and  uses  fruit,  as  we 
do,  only  as  a  dessert,  and  not  for  his  subsist- 
ence, except  in  winter,  when  his  insect  -  food 
cannot  be  obtained." 

In  view  of  such  testimony,  which  was  based 
upon  careful  observation,  and  protracted  and 
painstaking  experiments,  and  much  more  of  the 
same  sort  that  might  be  cited,  the  occasional 

285 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


aversion  to  the  robin  is  quite  discredited,  and 
his  general  popularity  more  than  ever  justified  ; 
so  that  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  this 
most  familiar  friend  of  man  is  in  a  peculiar 
sense  a  sort  of  guardian  angel  of  the  soil. 

Less  conspicuous  than  the  robin  in  its  utility, 
but  of  inestimable  service  throughout  all  the 
woods,  is  our  little  friend,  the  festive  chicka- 
dee, which  presents  a  very  practical  claim  upon 
our  admiration  in  the  fact  that,  from  a  series  of 
careful  observations  once  made  at  Paris,  it  has 
been  estimated  that  a  single  specimen  of  this 
species,  at  the  lowest  computation,  destroys 
annually  two  hundred  thousand  eggs  alone  of 
noxious  insects.  By  what  a  fairy  force  of  labor- 
ers is  the  imminent  destruction  of  our  forests 
stayed. 


286 


November 


"  The  fern  was  red  on  the  mountain, 
The  cloud  was  low  in  the  sky, 

And  we  knew  that  the  year  was  failing, 
That  the  wintry  time  was  nigh." 

Ralph  Hqyt 


NOVEMBER 

|F  all  the  forms  of  vegetable  life  none 
is  so  fit  to  be  a  type  of  manhood  as 
the  tree.  What  nobler  object  in 
nature  than  a  grand  old  elm  or 
oak  ?  What  a  sense  of  companionship  it  gives, 
— almost  the  air  of  dignified  personality,  that 
commands  more  than  aesthetic  admiration,  it 
challenges  respect.  What  a  combination  of 
distinct  and  harmonious  qualities  in  the  giant 
and  immovable  trunk,  the  graceful,  sweeping 
branches,  and  the  tender,  luxuriant,  and  re- 
freshing foliage.  The  stately  elm,  reigning 
alone  upon  the  grassy  plain,  or  standing  by  the 
dusty  highway — how  like  a  venerable  patriarch 
it  seems  to  spread  its  arms  in  an  umbrageous 
benediction,  inviting  one  to  pause  and  rest  in 
its  cooling  shadows,  and  luring  the  timid  birds 
to  nest  and  sing  in  its  branches — the  best  sym- 
bol of  character  that  the  poet  could  find  in  nat- 
ure when  he  said, — "  He  shall  be  like  a  tree 
planted  by  the  rivers  of  water."  What  an  em- 

289 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


blem  of  stability  and  vigor,  of  dignity  and 
grace,  as  it  endures  from  generation  to  gener- 
ation, now  haughtily  and  stiffly  defying  the 
blasts  of  winter,  and  again,  in  gracious  and  re- 
sponsive mood,  gently  swaying  in  the  summer 
breeze.  Hardly  less  criminal  than  the  wanton 
extinction  of  animal  life  is  the  needless  de- 
struction of  one  of  these  splendid  growths, 
with  its  heritage  of  years  and  its  beneficent 
mission.  And  when  such  a  landmark  of  a  cen- 
tury has  been  laid  low  by  the  lightning  or  the 
woodman's  axe,  it  excites  a  feeling  akin  to  that 
with  which  we  look  upon  a  prostrate  and  life- 
less human  form. 

How  many  human  moods  are  symbolized  by 
the  trees:  the  weeping  willow,  the  ambitious 
poplar,  the  mournful  cypress,  the  courtly  elm, 
the  silent,  thoughtful  pine,  the  stern  and 
rugged  oak.  Of  all  the  trees,  the  poets  seem 
to  find  the  oak  most  picturesque  and  human  ; 
distant,  grand,  defiant,  like  the  eagle  among 
the  birds  ;  angular  and  rigorous,  a  type  of  puri- 
tanism  ;  its  brusque  manners  in  sharp  contrast 
to  the  suavity  of  the  elm ;  a  Carlylean  tree — 
that  sort  of  being  whose  friends  are  few,  but  of 
the  strongest  sort ;  asking  no  favors,  but  not 
unwilling  after  its  grim  fashion  to  do  a  kind- 
290 


November 

ness.  The  massive,  belligerent  character  of  this 
tree  makes  it  a  favorite  theme  of  many  a  poet. 
Who  does  not  recall  some  counterpart  of  one 
described  in  Spenser's  lines: 

"  There  grew  an  aged  tree  on  the  green, 
A  goodly  Oak  sometime  had  it  been, 
With  arms  full  strong  and  largely  displayed, 
But  of  their  leaves  they  were  disarray'd  : 
The  body  big  and  mightily  plight, 
Thoroughly  rooted  and  of  wondrous  height ; 
Whilom  had  been  the  king  of  the  field, 
And  mochel  mast  to  the  husband  did  yield, 
And  with  his  nuts  larded  many  a  swine  ; 
But  now  the  gray  moss  marred  his  rine, 
His  bared  boughs  were  beaten  with  storms, 
His  top  was  bald  and  wasted  with  worms, 
His  honour  decay'd,  his  branches  sere." 

In  this  storm-beaten  oak  one  sees  a  type  of 
old  King  Lear,  iron-hearted  to  challenge  all  the 
furious  blasts  of  ill-fortune,  until  at  last  rent  by 
the  lightnings,  and  swept  away  in  the  bitter 
floods  of  filial  ingratitude. 

The  same  poet  also  makes  the  oak  the  mon- 
arch of  its  kind  in  that  quaint  and  descriptive 
catalogue  of  trees : 

"  The  sailing  Pine  ;  the  Cedar,  proud  and  tall  ; 
The  vine-prop  Elm  ;  the  Poplar  never  dry  ; 

291 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


The  builder  Oak,  sole  king  of  forests  all ; 

The  Aspen,  good  for  staves  ;  the  Cypress,  funeral ; 

The  Laurel,  meed  of  mighty  conquerors 

And  poets  sage  ;  the  Fir,  that  weepeth  still ; 

The  Willow,  worn  of  hopeless  paramours  ; 

The  Yew,  obedient  to  the  bender's  will  ; 

The  Sirch,  for  shafts  ;  the  Sallow,  for  the  mill  ; 

The  Myrrh,  sweet  bleeding  in  the  bitter  wound  ; 

The  warlike  Beech  ;  the  Ash,  for  nothing  ill ; 

The  fruitful  Olive,  and  the  Plantane  round  ; 

The  carver  Holm  ;  the  Maple,  seldom  inward  sound." 

Each  has  its  individuality,  but  personality 
seems  most  pronounced  in  the  "  sole  king  of 
forests  all,"  and  justifies  the  phrase,  the  spirit 
of  the  Oak. 

When  one  sees  a  mighty  tree  uprooted  or 
cut  down,  it  seems  impossible  not  to  feel  that 
suddenly  some  force  has  been  abstracted  from 
nature — annihilated ;  but  perhaps  this  is  a  mis- 
taken notion.  Certain  natural  forces  have 
been  proved  to  be  so  essentially  alike  as  to  be 
convertible  the  one  into  the  other,  and  heat 
ceases  to  be  heat  only  to  reappear  in  some 
other  mode  of  power.  If  this  be  true  of  the 
inferior  forces,  it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  the 
same  holds  good  of  the  immensely  superior 
vital  force  of  plants  and  animals ;  and  if  there 
be  no  such  thing  as  the  extinction  of  those 
292 


November 


baser  things  called  matter,  heat,  or  light,  we 
must  believe  that  vitality  of  whatever  sort  is  in 
its  essence  no  less  inextinguishable. 


Of  all  the  warblers,  the  most  abundant  and 
persistent  in  the  spring  and  fall  migrations  is 
the  yellow-rump,  which  I  have  met  occasion- 
ally through  the  month.  As  before  remarked, 
this  is  the  only  warbler  that  can  be  occasion- 
ally found  in  the  Northern  States  during  the 
winter.  On  the  5th,  a  large  flock  of  blue- 
birds appeared,  as  far  as  I  can  learn,  for  the 
first  time  this  year  in  the  Park,  where  for  some 
reason  they  seem  to  be  of  rare  occurrence  even 
as  migrants.  They  were  presumably  an  excur- 
sion party  on  their  way  South,  stopping  only 
over  the  Sabbath,  for  they  were  gone  the  next 
day.  During  their  stay  they  consorted  with 
the  robins,  their  cousins-in-science. 

The  approach  of  the  winter  season  was  em- 
phasized on  the  Qth  by  the  first  appearance  of 
the  chickadee,  the  light-hearted  winter  guest, 
and  a  large  flock  of  fox  sparrows  was  found 
mingled  with  white-throats  on  the  i8th,  and 
remained  through  the  month,  but  only  once 
did  I  hear  a  snatch  of  their  delicious  and  half 

293 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


melancholy  song.  The  hermit  thrush  is  silent- 
ly lurking  about  the  shrubbery — first  of  all  the 
thrushes  to  arrive  in  spring,  and  now  the  last 
to  disappear.  Now  and  then  a  robin  or  two 
can  be  seen  flying  about,  but  most  of  them 
have  gone  south,  while  the  few  that  remain  are 
fast  drifting  into  winter  seclusion.  The  month 
has  also  brought  a  flock  of  herring-gulls  from 
the  north. 

My  note-book  records  the  singing  of  the 
white-throats  and  song  sparrows  in  the  milder 
days  of  the  month.  The  annual  "  harvest- 
festival  "  (this  year  on  the  3oth)  was  the  oc- 
casion of  an  unusually  loud  anthem  of  "  thanks- 
giving "  from  the  song  sparrow,  as  I  was  walk- 
ing through  the  Park — one  of  those  atoms  of 
coincidence  that  linger  long  in  the  memory, 
like  a  word  fitly  spoken.  This  was  the  last  full 
burst  of  song  I  heard  this  year  ;  and  thus  the 
sparrow  closed  the  season,  as  he  ushered  in  the 
spring;  reminding . one  of  the  dandelion — the 
flower  that  gilds  both  edges  of  the  year. 

The  dandelion  and  song  sparrow  seem  to 
strike  hands  across  the  chasm  that  separates  the 
vegetable  and  animal  kingdoms.  Lowly  and 
unpretentious,  like  its  musical  analogue,  the 
dandelion  is  the  earliest  of  all  the  flowers  in 
294 


SONG    SPARROW 


November 

spring  to  appear  in  every  open  place;  it  is 
summed  up  in  its  blossom,  like  the  sparrow  in 
its  song ;  with  the  same  delightful  persistence, 
in  its  mute,  bright  way  it  tells  its  simple  tale 
through  spring,  summer,  and  autumn — a  gold- 
en thread  to  bind  the  months  from  April  to 
November,  until  at  last  it  punctuates  the  long 
year's  inflorescence  with  a  shining  period. 

The  dandelion  is  witness  to  the  fact  how 
much  of  truth  there  is  involved,  and  often  un- 
perceived,  in  common  things.  How  many  had 
ever  noticed,  until  Darwin  (I  think  it  was  he) 
called  attention  to  the  clear  purpose  of  a  pe- 
culiarity in  this  plant  —  which  everyone  must 
wonder  he  had  not  noticed  for  himself— viz., 
that  the  short  and  commonly  drooping  stem  of 
the  blossom  becomes  much  elongated  and  erect 
as  the  seeds  ripen,  with  the  evident  design  of 
raising  its  head  above  the  grass  or  other  sur- 
rounding vegetation,  and  affording  free  expos- 
ure to  the  winds  to  scatter  the  feathery  seeds? 
We  have  all  seen  millions  of  these  yellow  disks 
— spatters  of  molten  sun-drops — close  to  the 
ground,  and  noted  the  tall  pedestals  support- 
ing the  subsequent  downy  spheres,  without  a 
thought  of  any  significance  in  the  change. 
This  lowly  weed  can  at  least  teach  us  the  lesson 
295 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


not  to  call  anything  in  nature  common,  in  the 
contemptuous  sense. 

In  spring  the  ornithologist  is  ravenous  for 
the  sight  of  bright  colors.  There  is  starvation 
in  his  eye,  that  has  lived  the  winter  long  upon 
a  diet  of  black  and  white,  gray  and  brown. 
How  it  absorbs  the  ruddy  tinge  of  the  first 
robin  and  the  delicious  hue  of  the  early  blue- 
bird, as  the  thirsty  earth  drinks  water  ;  and 
when,  soon  after,  the  yellow  red-poll  appeared, 
never  before  had  yellow  seemed  so  rich.  There 
is  a  luxuriance  in  the  brilliant  tints  that  com- 
ports with  the  mood  of  a  softer  climate,  with 
its  foliage,  fruits,  and  flowers.  But,  after  all, 
black  and  white  are  more  vigorous,  and  the 
eye,  after  being  satiated  with  summer  delica- 
cies, finds  equally  welcome  the  plainer  fare  that 
comes  with  the  crisp,  invigorating  weather. 

Then,  too,  it  is  a  pleasure  to  get  back  one's 
winter  friends,  which  are  quite  as  companion- 
able, if  not  as  vocal,  as  the  more  talented 
"guests  of  summer."  Indeed,  the  greater 
rarity  of  the  winter  birds  establishes  a  peculiar 
sense  of  fellowship  that  one  is  less  likely  to  feel 
in  summer ;  while  there  is  that  impression  of 
superior  virility  in  the  character  of  the  former 
that  compensates  for  the  lack  of  other  charms. 
296 


November 

The  stream  of  ornithological  pleasure  flows 
more  evenly  through  the  whole  year  than  the 
uninitiated  would  imagine ;  for  one  winter- 
bird  counts  for  ten  in  summer,  rarity  in  grati- 
fication carries  its  own  compensation  of  inten- 
sity, and — a  constant  quantity  the  year  round 
— one  always  cherishes  the  exhilarating  expec- 
tancy of  the  unexpected. 

Variety  is  not  half  so  essential  a  spice  of  life 
as  expectancy.  Indeed,  from  the  cradle  to  the 
grave  anticipation  is  more  than  a  spice,  it  is  a 
large  part  of  the  very  subsistence  of  life.  We 
all  live  more  in  the  fairer  to-morrow  than  in 
to-day,  and  find  more  exhilaration  in  reaching 
forth  for  new  fruit,  than  in  enjoying  the  fruit 
in  hand — in  casting  the  fly,  than  in  counting 
the  fish  in  the  basket.  One  of  the  best  things 
to  l)e  said  about  immortality  is,  that  it  means 
a  future  never  drawn  upon. 


297 


December 


1  And  now  there  came  both  mist  and  snow, 
And  it  grew  wondrous  cold." 

Coleridge. 


DECEMBER 

jHATEVER  the  calendar  may  say 
about  winter  coming  in  on  the  first 
of  this  month  (or,  with  more  scien- 
tific accuracy,  on  the  2ist),  our  feel- 
ings do  not  cross  the  winter-line  until  the  first 
snow-storm.  Be  it  never  so  cold,  the  autumn 
mood  will  linger  on,  until  a  few  fairy  flakes 
silently  but  suddenly  dispel  the  illusion,  and 
inaugurate  the  new  regime,  as  the  song  spar- 
row's earliest  March  melody  magically  opens 
the  gate  of  spring. 

Winter  is  like  the  old  Norse  poetry,  ragged, 
and  jagged,  and  barbarously  grand.  There  is  a 
certain  fascination  in  the  unique  and  austere 
realities  of  this  bleak  and  inhospitable  season. 
Until  one  stands  in  the  depths  of  the  woods  in 
mid-winter  he  does  not  appreciate  how  rare 
and  peculiarly  impressive  is  the  sense  of  abso- 
lute silence — the  soundless,  deathly  quiet  in 
earth  and  air,  against  which  even  his  own  light 
breathing  harshly  grates,  while  his  ear  seems 
301 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


strangely  filled  with  the  vacuity  of  sound.  At 
long  intervals  the  profound  stillness  is  broken, 
yet  intensified,  by  the  distant  cawing  of  the 
crows,  or  the  coarse  call-note  of  the  flicker,  or 
the  sudden  merriment  of  the  chickadee  in  a 
tree  close  by ;  but  it  is  gone  in  an  instant — the 
sound  engulfed  in  an  ocean  of  frozen  silence. 
There  is  a  potency  in  the  sense  of  utter  desola- 
tion in  the  soundless  forest  on  a  winter's  day 
that  is  hardly  surpassed  by  any  display  of  nat- 
ure's most  tremendous  energies.  Nothing  seems 
more  aptly  to  symbolize  the  spirit  of  winter  in 
its  gloom,  isolation,  and  grandeur,  than  the  lone 
sea-bird  pursuing  its  wild,  magnificent  flight 
over  the  turbulent  main,  before  a  darkly  gather- 
ing storm. 

The  bleak,  wild  scenes  of  winter-life,  such  as 
the  driving  snow-storm,  the  sombre  landscape, 
the  noiseless  passage  of  a  hawk  amid  the  trees, 
the  cutting  wind  that  sways  the  leafless  boughs 
with  dismal  creak — 

"  Bare  ruin'd  choirs,  where  late  the  sweet  birds  sang," 

— the  moaning  pines,  the  cold  light  of  day, 
and  the  still  colder  and  quickly  gathering  dark- 
ness—  these  and  all  other  ghastly  things  that 
appertain  to  Nature's  annual  burial,  constitute 
302 


December 

an  incomparable  background  on  which  to  pro- 
ject the  tone  and  temper  of  all  the  other  sea- 
sons of  the  year — the  joy  of  spring,  the  luxuri- 
ance of  summer,  and  the  glory  of  autumn. 

Sky-filling  and  half-formless  phantom  shadow- 
ing the  earth,  and  whose  essential  elements  are 
darkness,  clouds,  and  icy  winds,  Winter  is  the 
dread  image  of  a  scourge  that  devastates  the 
world, 

"And  reigns  tremendous  o'er  the  conquer'd  year." 


School  ornithology  means,  a  bird  in  the 
hand — field  ornithology,  a  bird  in  the  bush ; 
and  in  its  wild  freedom  its  life-history  is  com- 
prised under  four  aspects,  viz.,  appearance  (i.e., 
plumage  and  physique),  migrations,  general  hab- 
its and  song,  and  nidification.  When  one  pro- 
ceeds to  study  these  creatures  he  finds  how  the 
details  involved  in  this  summary  begin  to  mul- 
tiply, so  that  thorough  knowledge  of  any  spe- 
cies, which  at  first  seemed  an  easy  matter  to 
acquire,  proves  to  be  an  affair  of  prolonged  and 
perhaps  endless  research.  It  befits  the  purpose 
of  this  book  to  speak  briefly  of  the  foregoing 

303 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


summary,  wherein  is  outlined  the  entire  prov- 
ince of  field  ornithology. 

Acquaintance  with  a  bird  begins,  of  course, 
in  identifying  its  species;  and  this  requires 
either  verbal  description,  pictorial  illustration, 
or  (which  is  best  of  all)  access  to  a  collection 
of  stuffed  specimens.*  In  either  case  there  are 
two  ways  of  proceeding  :  either  first  to  find  the 
living  bird,  notice  its  size  and  as  many  of  the 
details  of  coloration  as  possible,  with  all  of  its 
habits  that  may  be  noted,  and  then  from  refer- 
ence-book or  stuffed  collection  determine  what 
it  is.  In  some  cases  this  method  will  be  very 
easy,  as  where  the  colors  are  simple,  and  a  good 
view  is  had  of  the  specimen.  In  other  cases, 
with  complicated  markings,  as  in  the  warblers, 
or  when  the  bird  is  very  small,  or  seen  at  a  dis- 
tance, it  might  be  a  long  time  before  the  spe- 
cies can  be  determined. 

The  second  method  is  the  reverse  of  the 
other  —  first  to  learn  the  appearance  of  the 
birds  of  any  locality  from  either  of  the  above 
sources,  and  then  find  their  counterparts  in  nat- 
ure. This  method  is  simplified  by  finding  out 

*  The  illustrations  in  this  book  were  prepared  from 
specimens  kindly  furnished  by  the  directorsof  the  Museum 
of  Natural  History,  in  New  York  City. 

304 


December 

what  birds  are  to  be  expected  at  any  given  time 
and  place,  and  thus  confining  the  attention  to 
a  few  birds  at  a  time.  This  latter  course  in- 
volves more  preliminary  work,  but  has  the  ad- 
vantage that  thereby  the  live  specimens  will 
generally  be  identified  at  a  glance.  The  tem- 
perament and  circumstances  of  the  individual 
will  determine  the  method  to  be  adopted.  For 
myself,  I  learned  the  names  and  coloring  of  all 
the  song-birds  of  New  England  before  I  had 
seen  half  a  dozen  living  species, — a  method  that 
another  person  might  find  very  irksome. 

One  soon  finds  that  the  size  (particularly 
the  length)  of  a  bird  is  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant factors  in  determining  its  species.  Where 
there  is  some  uncertainty  in  regard  to  the 
characteristic  coloring,  an  approximate  idea  of 
the  size  is  of  great  assistance ;  while  there  are 
several  instances  of  distinct  species  among  the 
land-birds,  and  still  more  among  the  water- 
fowl, that  are  colored  exactly  alike  or  nearly 
so,  and  appear  to  be  only  larger  and  smaller 
editions  of  the  same  creature ;  like  the  hairy 
and  the  downy  woodpeckers,  and  (when  seen 
at  a  distance)  the  pine  grosbeak  and  the  cross- 
bill. As  birds  in  the  wild  state  will  not  sub- 
mit to  any  rules,  twelve-inch  or  otherwise,  it  is 

305 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


well  to  know  the  length  of  a  few  familiar  birds, 
which  one  can  carry  in  mind  as  standards  of 
measure.  As  good  as  any  for  this  purpose  are 
the  crow,  which  is  about  twenty  inches  long, 
the  robin,  about  ten  inches,  and  the  English 
sparrow,  or  the  song  sparrow,  about  six  inches. 
In  discovering  a  new  species  one  is  often  so 
excited  as  to  forget  entirely  to  make  a  note  of 
its  size,  and  on  consulting  reference  -  book  or 
stuffed  collection  he  finds  he  has  neglected  an 
essential  point  of  the  description,  and  must  wait 
until  the  bird  favors  him  with  another  audi- 
ence. 

Secondly,  as  regards  the  migrations  of  birds 
(for,  as  before  shown,  there  is  rarely  a  specimen 
and  only  a  very  few  species  resident  the  whole 
year  at  any  locality  in  northern  latitudes),  the 
facts  are  most  easily  learned  from  books,  al- 
though by  a  year's  careful  observation  one  can 
quite  accurately  classify  the  summer  and  winter 
residents  and  migrants  of  his  own  region.  But 
the  further  interesting  facts  of  the  northern  and 
southern  extent  of  their  range  in  different  sea- 
sons of  the  year  can  be  learned  only  by  the 
combined  observations  of  many  individuals 
over  a  wide  extent  of  territory,  and  we  must 
rely  upon  books  to  tell  us,  for  example,  where 
306 


December 

the  fox  sparrow  lives  in  summer,  or  the  hum- 
ming-bird in  winter. 

Thirdly,  a  bird's  general  habits  and  song  (if 
a  song-bird)  afford  endless  entertainment, 
whatever  the  locality,  and  in  this  phase  of  its 
biography  each  person  may  do  original  work. 
In  the  case  of  all  the  familiar  species  there  is 
now  little  reason  to  expect  any  important  new 
disclosures,  and  yet  individuality  asserts  itself  to 
such  a  degree  among  these  creatures,  that  such 
an  event  is  not  impossible ;  while  any  modifi- 
cation of  their  circumstances  naturally  leads  to 
the  development  of  new  traits.  The  more  they 
are  observed,  the  less  mechanical  and  prescribed 
their  lives  appear,  and  minor  facts  of  interest 
are  coming  to  light  from  time  to  time  in  regard 
to  even  the  commonest  species. 

But,  fortunately,  the  interest  of  research  in 
this  pursuit  is  not  at  all  dependent  upon  dis- 
covering facts,  important  or  trivial,  which  have 
never  been  known  before.  There  is  precisely 
as  much  satisfaction  in  learning  the  ways  and 
appearance  of  an  unfamiliar  bird,  and  in  getting 
a  clear  sense  of  its  individuality,  as  if  the  same 
species  had  not  been  watched  before  by  a  thou- 
sand pairs  of  eyes.  As  someone  has  well  said, 
every  observer  is  for  himself  at  least  an  original 

3<>7 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


discoverer  ;  and  the  same  exhilaration  of  dis- 
covery is  in  store  for  each  new  beginner.  It  is 
entertaining  to  read  others'  accounts  of  bird- 
life,  but  this  is  a  mild  satisfaction  compared 
with  seeing  for  one's  self  what  is  transpiring  in 
the  woods  and  fields  all  about.  However  in- 
structive the  experience  of.  others,  one  realizes 
only  his  own  experience.  It  is  the  difference 
between  shadow  aud  substance.  Language  is  a 
clumsy  medium  for  conveying  beauty  of  form 
and  color,  grace  of  motion,  tone  and  modula- 
tion of  song. 

When  one  considers  the  various  classes  of 
birds — song-birds,  birds  of  prey,  game-birds, 
shore  and  swimming  birds  —  and  the  diversi- 
ty of  habits  incident  to  their  several  modes  of 
life,  he  realizes  the  endless  field  of  investigation 
open  to  the  student.  Every  region  of  the  globe 
attracts  an  avifauna  congenial  to  its  physical 
and  climatic  conditions.  Mountain  and  plain, 
forest  and  field,  seashore  and  stream,  from  the 
tropics  to  the  Arctic  zone — all  have  their  spe- 
cial types,  each  with  its  own  functions,  and  all 
for  the  service  and  adornment  of  nature.  And 
when  we  take  a  still  broader  outlook,  and  sur- 
vey the  myriad  varieties  of  organic  forms 
throughout  the  world,  from  the  depths  of  ocean 

308 


December 

to  the  tops  of  the  mountains,  and  even  pervad- 
ing the  atmosphere,  ranging  from  microscopic 
protozoa  up  through  all  degrees  of  magnitude 
and  of  organic  complexity  of  vegetable  and 
animal  life,  and  the  countless  specimens  of  each 
type  distributed  within  the  bounds  of  its  habi- 
tation, each  a  perfectly  developed  and  inces- 
santly energizing  force  fulfilling  its  prescribed 
purpose  from  time  immemorial  in  the  economy 
of  nature, — such  a  sweeping  glance  gives  a  faint 
idea  what  an  amazingly  intricate  and  magnifi- 
cent piece  of  mechanism  is  this  world.  Of  all 
the  sciences  that  come  to  view  in  this  stupen- 
dous panorama,  ornithology  is  perhaps  the  most 
poetic  and  picturesque.* 

Song  -  birds,  not  those  whose  natures  are 
mocked  in  brass  prisons,  but  in  the  wild  free- 
dom of  their  native  haunts,  have  in  themselves 
something  akin  to  the  human  heart,  bringing 
them  almost  to  the  plane  of  fellowship  with 
mankind.  There  is  sublimity  in  the  imperial 
flight  and  bearing  of  the  eagle,  like  the  rugged 

*  It  lifts  a  corner  of  the  curtain  to  our  view  of  the  infin- 
ity of  life  on  the  globe,  to  be  told  that  there  are  100,000 
species  of  animalcules  alone,  and  that  of  one  of  these, 
30,000  individuals  can  inhabit  a  single  drop  of  water ; 
while  another  is  so  prolific  that  in  four  days  its  descend- 
ants«number  70,000,000,000. 

3°9 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


Spirit  of  the  mountains;  there  is  a  wild  and 
melancholy  picturesqueness  in  the  reminiscent 
water-fowl ;  but  neither  the  grandeur  of  the 
one,  nor  the  poetry  of  the  other,  can  elicit  that 
personal,  affectionate  regard  that  springs  up  for 
a  creature  that  can  translate  its  heart  into  song. 
What  a  hold  the  familiar  song-birds  of  every 
country  have  upon  the  people  !  And  commonly 
they  are  among  the  most  plainly  dressed  of 
their  kind.  The  song  sparrow,  the  purple  finch, 
the  robin,  the  thrush,  in  our  own  country  ;  the 
wren,  the  chaffinch,  and  the  skylark,  in  Eu- 
rope ;  who  would  think  of  naming  these  among 
the  feathered  "beauties,"  yet  who  would  not 
gladly  sacrifice  any  of  the  merely  ornamental 
species  for  such  as  these  ?  Only  heart  speaks 
to  heart,  and  the  world  in  the  end  is  swayed 
neither  by  fine  manners  nor  by  fine  looks. 

Apart  from  the  more  subtle  influence  upon 
the  mind  wrought  by  these  audible  and  visible 
impressions  of  nature,  there  comes  a  refinement 
of  hearing,  in  the  discrimination  of  tones  and 
the  unravelling  of  cadences  ;  a  delicacy  of  vis- 
ion, in  the  minute  distinctions  of  action,  form, 
and  color ;  an  education  of  eye  and  ear,  in  it- 
self pleasurable,  and  enlarging  one's  capacity 
for  enjoyment. 

3TO 


WOOD-THRUSHES   AND    NEST 


December 

In  the  chill  of  a  bright  March  morning  the 
song  sparrow,  with  his  lusty  welcome  to  the 
reviving  earth  ;  in  June  the  robin  carolling  in 
the  maple  at  the  first  blush  of  dawn ;  the  wood 
or  the  hermit  thrush  pouring  forth  his  golden 
notes  in  the  cool  repose  of  a  summer's  eve ;  the 
serene  cadence  of  the  vesper  sparrow,  floating 
from  quiet  fields ;  the  mid-day  jubilation  of  the 
purple  finch  in  the  orchard ;  the  merry  tone  of 
the  chickadee  suddenly  dissolving  the  icy  deso- 
lation of  a  winter's  day  ;  these  and  numerous 
other  voices,  louder  and  fainter,  are  giving 
Nature's  invitation  to  go  forth  and  behold  her 
works.  On  every  hand  mystery  is  ripening 
into  clear  knowledge  under  the  eye  and  ear  of 
man  ;  it  is  the  mind's  perpetual  harvest. 

It  is  during  the  period  of  nidification  (ap- 
proximately May  and  June)  that  a  bird  is  seen 
and  heard  at  its  best.  This  is  the  climax  of 
its  annual  experience,  the  fulness  of  its  joy, 
when  it  blooms  into  the  maturity  of  its  nature. 
Its  song  is  then  most  hearty  and  copious,  its 
instinctive  powers  and  affection  most  wonder- 
fully exhibited.  Its  timidity,  and  at  the  same 
time  its  boldness,  are  most  marked  at  this  sea- 
son, as  if  realizing  its  responsibility  for  the  per- 
petuity of  its  kind.  Its  devices  for  misleading 

3" 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


attention  from  its  nest  and  its  young  are  some- 
times very  amusing,  and  yet  pathetic,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  prairie-hen,  which  is  a  great  adept 
in  such  trickery.  As  one  writer  describes  it, 
when  she  is  leading  about  her  young  in  quest 
of  food,  and  is  surprised  by  an  intruder,  she 
"  utters  a  cry  of  alarm.  The  young  ones  im- 
mediately scamper  to  the  brush;  and  while 
they  are  skulking  into  places  of  safety,  their 
anxious  parent  beguiles  the  spectator  by  droop- 
ing and  fluttering  her  wings,  limping  along  the 
path,  rolling  over  in  the  dirt,  and  other  pre- 
tences of  inability  to  walk  or  fly,"  and  con- 
tinuing these  signs  of  injury  and  distress  until 
the  spectator  has  been  lured  to  a  safe  distance. 
At  other  times,  when  surprised  upon  the  nest, 
its  boldness  is  often  most  heroic ;  and  one 
cannot  but  be  amazed  at  the  wisdom  often 
displayed  in  so  locating  the  nest  as  best  to 
conceal  it  from  its  numerous  foes,  while  the 
structure  itself  is  a  marvel  of  skill,  and  some- 
times of  exquisite  beauty.  Its  instinct  is  noth- 
ing short  of  genius.  However  lightly  one  may 
pass  over  the  other  aspects  of  a  bird,  he  may 
well  be  deferential  in  view  of  its  wisdom. 

Birds'  nests,  in  all  the  diversity  of  size,  loca- 
tion, materials  of  composition,  and  style  of  ar- 
312 


December 

chitecture,  are  a  most  curious  and  interesting 
study  by  itself.  They  vary  in  size  from  the 
eagle's  rude  structure,  five  feet  across,  down  to 
the  daintiest  of  all,  the  humming-bird's,  only 
an  inch  and  a  half  in  diameter.  They  are  lo- 
cated in  all  sorts  of  places.  Those  of  the  bank 
swallow  and  belted  kingfisher  are  subterran- 
ean, at  the  end  of  long  excavations  in  sand- 
banks, from  one  to  several  feet  below  the  sur- 
face. Sparrows  build  on  the  ground  ;  so  do 
night-hawks  and  many  water-fowl.  To  find 
the  nests  of  thrushes  and  many  of  the  warblers, 
we  must  look  a  few  feet  above  the  ground,  in 
bushes  and  trees.  Crows  nest  in  the  tops  of 
tall  trees,  and  inaccessible  cliffs  several  hundred 
feet  high  are  fittingly  the  home  of  many  of  the 
hawks  and  eagles.  Woodpeckers  make  cavi- 
ties from  one  to  two  feet  in  depth  in  trees, 
and  chickadees  and  nuthatches,  with  the  same 
proclivity  as  the  woodpecker,  but  without  its 
strength,  will  sometimes  take  the  abandoned 
nests  of  the  latter,  and  sometimes  make  their 
own  excavations  in  a  rotten  stump  where  the 
wood  is  soft.  Swifts  build  in  chimneys,  barn 
swallows  under  the  eaves  of  outbuildings. 
Some  species  choose  the  deepest  woods,  and 
others  the  orchard  and  the  wayside.  In  the 

313 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


case  of  aerial  birds  the  altitude  of  the  nest  is 
about  in  the  plane  of  their  average  flight,  and 
while  the  little  vesper  sparrow  selects  a  tussock 
of  grass  in  which  to  build,  the  grand  and  lone- 
ly mountain  is  the  foundation  of  the  eagle's 
home.  Among  aerial  birds,  too,  there  is  an 
irregular  parallelism  between  the  size  of  the 
bird  and  the  height  of  the  nest — many  war- 
blers and  sparrows  choosing  the  ground,  or 
a  slight  elevation,  the  larger  finches,  crows, 
hawks,  and  eagles  going  successively  higher 
and  higher. 

A  constant  thought  of  a  bird  is,  "  Many  are 
they  that  rise  up  against  me,"  and  safety  is 
commonly  the  first  consideration  in  the  loca- 
tion of  nests.  In  this  they  are  materially  as- 
sisted by  the  generally  inconspicuous  colors  of 
the  female,  and  among  the  sparrows,  which 
mostly  nest  on  the  ground,  so  that  the  eggs 
and  young  are  especially  exposed  to  the  depre- 
dations of  other  animals,  by  the  neutral  color- 
ing of  both  sexes.  The  Maryland  yellow- 
throat  finds  security  in  the  seclusion  of  low 
bushes,  the  red-eyed  vireo  in  the  manifest  ex- 
posure of  the  tip-end  of  a  branch,  in  a  ' '  priv- 
acy of  light,"  and  the  bobolink  concludes  to 
run  his  chances  by  camping  down  on  the  open 


December 

and  unbroken  surface  of  a  field,  with  no  land- 
mark about,  so  that  if  by  any  chance  it  is  dis- 
covered, the  finder  would  have  no  clue  by 
which  to  return  to  it.  The  most  ingenious 
and  artistic  device  of  all  is  in  so  choosing  the 
materials  composing  the  exterior  that  they 
blend  indistinguishably  with  the  surrounding 
colors. 

In  these  structures  a  surprising  inequality  of 
architectural  skill  is  displayed.  Some  birds  are 
most  indifferent  builders,  while  others  show 
most  careful  effort  and  artistic  taste.  Nothing 
could  be  more  primitive  than  the  nest  of  the 
whippoorwill  or  of  the  night-hawk  —  only  a 
slight  hollow  scratched  in  the  bare  ground,  or, 
at  best,  with  only  a  few  sticks  rudely  surround- 
ing the  depression.  Bank  swallows  hardly 
need  anything  better  than  the  soft  sand  which 
is  the  natural  basis  of  their  nest,  but  tender- 
ness or  pride  commonly  prompts  them  to  over- 
lay it  with  a  few  roots,  twigs,  and  feathers. 
Woodpeckers  consider  a  few  of  the  chips  they 
have  made  in  the  excavation  quite  soft  enough 
to  receive  the  eggs — or  possibly  they  call  this  a 
parquet  flooring.  Chickadees  and  nuthatches 
make  their  excavations  cosey  with  soft  moss, 
hairs,  and  the  like.  The  nest  of  the  robin  (and 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


of  the  wood  thrush  as  well),  although  coarsely 
made  and  inelegant,  is  unusual  in  consisting  of 
three  distinct  layers,  the  outermost  of  various 
coarse  substances  like  weeds,  roots,  straw,  etc., 
woven  together,  the  next  layer  of  somewhat 
finer  material  plastered  together  with  mud,  and, 
lastly,  the  innermost  lining  of  soft  grass  and 
moss,  the  whole  constituting  a  structure  clum- 
sy in  appearance,  but  durable.  The  golden- 
crowned  warbler  gets  its  name  of  oven-bird  from 
its  peculiar  nest,  which  is  buik  over  at  the  top, 
with  the  entrance  on  one  side,  and  looking 
much  like  an  old-fashioned  oven.  It  is  placed 
on  the  ground,  made  of  dry  leaves  and  grasses, 
and  lined  with  soft  material. 

The  nest  of  the  marsh  wren  is  still  more  com- 
plex and  unique.  By  the  way,  the  wren  family 
is  quite  a  gifted  one ;  physically  diminutive,  but 
brainy.  Their  proclivities  take  different  di- 
rections, and  while  the  winter  and  the  house 
wrens  adopted  a  musical  career,  the  marsh  wren 
became  famous  as  an  architect ;  which  is  quite  a 
harmonious  contrast,  if  architecture  be,  as  some- 
one has  called  it,  frozen  music.  I  quote  from 
Wilson  the  following  description  of  its  seaside 
mansion  :  "  This  is  formed  outwardly  of  wet 
rushes  mixed  with  mud,  well  intertwined  and 

316 


December 

fashioned  into  the  form  of  a  cocoanut.  A  small 
hole  is  left  two-thirds  up  for  entrance"  (an- 
other writer  says  the  front  door  always  faces 
the  south),  "  the  upper  edge  of  which  projects 
like  a  pent-house  over  the  lower  to  prevent  the 
admission  of  rain.  The  inside  is  lined  with 
fine,  soft  grass,  and  sometimes  feathers,  and  the 
outside,  when  hardened  by  the  sun,  resists 
every  kind  of  weather.  This  nest  is  generally 
suspended  among  the  reeds,  above  the  reach  of 
the  highest  tides,  and  is  tied  so  fast  to  every 
part  of  the  surrounding  reeds  as  to  bid  defiance 
to  the  winds  and  the  waves." 

The  nest  of  the  cliff  swallow,  which  is  fash- 
ioned into  the  shape  of  a  gourd,  is  construct- 
ed on  the  exterior  entirely  of  pellets  of  mud 
(bricks  without  straw),  the  interior  softly  lined, 
and  the  whole  attached  by  its  larger  part  to 
a  building  or  cliff.  Among  all  the  designs  of 
nests,  in  this  country  at  least,  there  is  noth- 
ing more  picturesque  than  the  deep,  pendu- 
lous structure  of  the  Baltimore  oriole,  hanging 
from  near  the  extremity  of  a  drooping  branch 
of  an  elm-tree,  nearly  seven  inches  in  depth, 
of  cylindrical  shape,  the  outer  part  a  sort  of 
coarsely  woven  cloth  made  of  thread,  sewing- 
silk,  ravellings  of  any  kind,  strings  of  the  flax 

3*7 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


of  silkweed,  tow,  etc.,  with  a  lining  of  horse- 
hair, grass,  and  similar  material. 

But  the  most  ethereal  affair  of  all,  of  gauzy 
texture  comporting  with  its  dainty  occupant,  is 
the  humming  -  bird's  home.  Its  framework  is 
soft  down,  such  as  grows  on  the  stems  of  cer- 
tain ferns,  covered  with  lichens  glued  on  with 
the  saliva  of  the  bird,  and  the  whole  lined  with 
superlatively  soft  and  downy  substances  like  the 
pappus  of  flying  seeds.  This  elegant  abode  is 
only  three-quarters  of  an  inch  in  its  inner  di- 
ameter, yet  amply  large  for  the  two  tiny  eggs 
less  than  half  an  inch  in  length — "  love  in  a 
cottage,"  indeed — and  the  casket  with  its  pair 
of  germinant  jewels  and  its  airy  fairy  master 
and  mistress  presents  one  of  the  rarest  pictures 
in  nature. 

In  contrast  with  such  a  delicate  dream  how 
huge  and  ungainly  is  the  dwelling  of  the  bald 
eagle,  a  bulky  heap  sometimes  five  feet  in  diam- 
eter, and  two  or  three  feet  thick,  made  of  large 
sticks  often  an  inch  thick,  branches  of  seaweed, 
and  turf.  But  Nature  is  as  masterly  in  a  gigan- 
tic stroke  as  in  her  gentlest  touch,  and  shows 
the  same  superb  consistency  in  grouping  the 
majestic  bird  of  prey  with  its  inhospitable  eyrie 
on  the  rugged,  lonely  mountain-top,  as  when 
318 


HUMMING-BIRDS   AND    NEST 


December 

she  fills  the  woods  below  with  singing  birds, 
and  populates  the  shore  of  lake  and  stream  with 
graceful  water-fowl. 

More  unpromising  tools  than  a  bird's  bill 
and  feet  could  hardly  be  imagined  for  building 
anything  that  is  to  be  compact  and  durable,  to 
say  nothing  of  neatness  and  elegance.  Recently, 
in  unravelling  a  nest  a  strand  was  found,  some 
feet  in  length,  that  was  woven  in  and  out  thirty- 
four  times.  In  rearing  the  second  brood  of  the 
same  year  the  parents  commonly  take  much 
less  pride  in  their  work,  or  else  are  obliged  to 
be  more  expeditious,  and  the  materials  are 
thrown  together  quite  hastily.  It  is  very  un- 
usual for  a  nest  to  be  used  a  second  season,  ex- 
cept where  one  species  takes  the  abandoned  nest 
of  another,  like  the  chickadee  ;  but  one  writer 
tells  of  a  pair  of  ravens  in  Ohio  that  occupied 
the  same  nest  for  several  years,  which,  from  its 
protected  situation,  required  but  few  alterations 
and  additions  each  year.  As  a  class  the  song- 
birds are  much  the  finest  builders,  the  nests  of 
the  larger  aerial  species,  like  crows,  hawks,  etc., 
being  quite  clumsy,  while  game  -  birds  and 
water-fowl  rarely  exert  themselves  beyond  what 
is  absolutely  necessary. 

The   assortment   of  materials  used   in  nest- 

3*9 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


building  is  much  larger  than  one  might  sup- 
pose, owing  to  the  peculiarities  in  architecture, 
the  difference  of  the  supplies  afforded  in  differ- 
ent localities,  and  probably,  too,  something 
must  be  allowed  for  their  individual  tastes. 
The  following  variety  is  to  be  found  in  the 
nests  of  our  own  region  :  grasses,  leaves,  weeds, 
fibrous  roots,  sticks,  twigs,  outer  bark  of  grape- 
vine, cedar-bark,  fine  fir  branches,  cranberry 
fibre,  dry  plants  of  various  kinds,  pine  needles, 
rushes,  sedges,  mosses,  lichens,  seaweed,  hay, 
wool,  tow,  cottony  substance  of  fern  stems, 
straw,  horse-hair,  feathers  (sometimes  of  the 
bird  itself),  down  of  thistle  and  other  seeds, 
fine  hair  of  various  animals,  silky  vegetable 
fibre,  willow-down,  wool  of  cotton-grass,  cater- 
pillar's silk,  pieces  of  the  nests  of  hornets  and 
spiders,  hogs'  bristles,  strings  of  silkweed-flax, 
artificial  thread,  sewing  -  silk,  strips  of  paper, 
snake-skins,  mud,  turf,  pebbles,  clam  and  oys- 
ter shells  (in  the  case  of  the  kill-deer  plover), 
and  in  several  species  the  saliva  of  the  bird,  to 
serve  as  glue  for  binding  the  parts  together. 

A   bird   is   supposed  to  have  little   interest 

in  its  nest,  apart  from  the  eggs  or  the  young 

actually  contained  therein.     But  I  have  heard 

of  a  curious  instance  of  sentiment  (quite  like- 

320 


December 


ly  found  in  other  species)  displayed  by  a  pair 
of  great-footed  hawks  nesting  on  Mount  Tom, 
in  Massachusetts.  The  nest  was  near  the  top 
of  the  mountain,  almost  at  the  summit  of 
a  precipitous  cliff  two  hundred  feet  in  height, 
and  well  -  nigh  inaccessible.  When  the  bold 
climber  approached  the  nest  (which  was  on  a 
shelving  rock,  and  was  merely  a  slight  exca- 
vation, without  any  pretence  of  a  structure), 
although  it  was  as  yet  entirely  empty,  the 
hawks  were  found  lingering  about  the  spot,  and 
displayed  great  anxiety  and  anger  at  the  intru- 
sion. The  narrator  said  that  thus  for  weeks 
before  the  eggs  were  laid  the  spot  was  carefully 
guarded  by  the  bold  and  watchful  birds. 

Some  of  the  wild  and  magnificent  scenes  wit- 
nessed and  participated  in  by  those  who  have 
made  a  study  of  the  larger  birds  of  prey  in 
mountainous  regions  are  of  thrilling  interest, 
and  may  well  be  said  to  constitute  the  heroic 
side  of  ornithology. 

After  selecting  the  site  for  the  nest — an  im- 
portant matter  that  often  causes  very  earnest 
discussion — the  structure  is  usually  completed 
with  more  or  less  rapidity  according  to  the  de- 
gree of  complexity  and  elegance,  and  the  eggs 
immediately  thereafter  deposited,  the  incubation 

321 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


being  generally  effected  by  the  female,  but  fre- 
quently with  the  assistance  of  her  mate.  The  pe- 
riod required  for  incubation  varies  with  the  size 
of  the  bird,  from  ten  days  or  less  for  the  small- 
est species  up  to  about  eight  weeks  for  the  os- 
trich. 

Most  species  produce  two  sets,  and  a  few 
three  sets  of  eggs  each  year.  The  entire  nest- 
ing season  is  longer  than  commonly  supposed. 
While  for  the  majority  of  birds  it  is  comprised 
in  about  six  weeks — from  the  middle  of  May  to 
the  end  of  June — the  great  horned  owl  lays  its 
eggs  in  March,  sometimes  even  in  February, 
other  owls  and  hawks  (sometimes  the  song 
sparrow)  in  April,  whereas  the  second  set  of 
many  species  is  not  produced  till  July.  Indeed 
the  cedar-bird  and  goldfinch  commonly  wait 
till  July  before  laying  the  first  set,  and  the 
goldfinch  even  delays  sometimes  till  August. 
(The  period  is  even  longer  than  the  foregoing 
for  the  entire  country,  extending  from  January, 
for  some  of  the  birds  of  prey,  to  the  end  of 
September.) 

The  full  set  of  eggs  varies  in  number. 
Among  thrushes,  warblers,  finches,  etc. ,  the  set 
contains  four  or  five,  which  is  perhaps  the  gen- 
eral average.  But  eagles,  whippoorwills,  hum- 
322 


December 

ming-birds,  and  a  few  others  have  only  two  in 
a  set,  and  among  the  commoner  species  the 
house  wren  has  from  six  to  nine,  the  ruffed 
grouse  from  eight  to  fifteen,  and  Wilson  states 
that  in  the  nest  of  the  Virginia  partridge  or 
"Bob-white"  one  will  sometimes  find  as 
many  as  twenty-four  eggs,  probably,  however, 
the  joint  contribution  of  two  or  three  females. 
It  would  be  interesting  to  know  the  significance 
of  the  peculiar  and  often  beautiful  ground  tints, 
and  of  the  various  markings  in  lilac,  red,  brown, 
etc. ,  found  on  almost  all  egg-shells. 

The  search  for  nests  is  as  fascinating  as  al- 
most any  aspect  of  ornithology,  although  it  can 
l>e  successfully  prosecuted  only  during  the 
brief  period  of  nidification.  And,  when  found, 
there  is  a  finer  pleasure  in  leaving  nest  and  eggs 
intact  than  in  despoiling  them. 

Since  for  the  female  bird  the  conjugal  com- 
pact seems  to  be  quite  as  much  a  matter  of  con- 
venience as  of  sentiment,  it  is  doubtful,  in  the 
event  of  accident  befalling  her  mate  after  the 
nesting  season  is  fully  over,  whether  she  con- 
sents to  pass  again  under  the  "  blissful  yoke  " 
until  the  next  year.  But  should  she  be  bereft 
during  the  critical  nesting  period,  like  a  prac- 
tical business  woman  she  accepts  or  even  hunts 

3*3 


The  Birds'  Calendar 

up  another  partner  with  surprising  and  almost 
unseemly  celerity. 


A  bird's  natural  period  of  life  appears  to  be 
somewhat,  though  by  no  means  strictly,  pro- 
portional to  its  size.  Vital  statistics  of  such 
fugacious  creatures  are  difficult  to  obtain,  and 
afford  only  approximate  conclusions.  It  is 
known,  however,  that  eagles  and  swans  some- 
times live  a  hundred  years,  whereas,  for  many 
of  the  smallest  species  the  limit  is  only  five 
or  six  years.  Peacocks  not  uncommonly  live 
twenty  years,  and  even  goldfinches  and  black- 
birds have  attained  that  age,  although  probably 
it  is  greatly  in  excess  of  their  natural  limit  ;  and 
parrots  have  survived  sixty  years  in  confine- 
ment. Doubtless,  the  average  duration  of  bird- 
life,  as  fixed  by  nature,  does  not  exceed  ten  or 
twelve  years. 

Yet,  naturally  short-lived  as  are  the  great 
majority  of  birds,  vast  numbers  are  prematurely 
cut  off  by  adverse  climate  and  lack  of  food,  by 
the  ravages  of  disease,  by  the  attacks  of  numer- 
ous insidious  foes  among  the  lower  animals, 
and,  most  lamentable  of  all,  by  the  wanton  as- 
saults of  man  himself.  It  is  disgraceful  to  hu- 

324 


December 

manity,  and  increasingly  barbarous  and  crimi- 
nal, in  proportion  as  intelligence  and  refine- 
ment increase,  that  mankind,  for  the  pleasure 
of  cruel  sport  in  the  one  sex,  and  for  the  grati- 
fication of  vanity  by  personal  adornment  in  the 
other  sex,  should  be  conspicuous  among  the 
destroyers  of  one  of  the  most  useful,  as  well  as 
most  beautiful,  of  the  creations  of  nature. 


What  a  storehouse  Nature  is  for  ideas  in  the 
useful  and  fine  arts  !  Man's  inventions  and  ar- 
tistic products  are  largely  only  ingenious  copy- 
ings— legitimate  plagiarisms.  It  is  said  that 
the  invention  of  the  sewing-machine  was  long 
delayed,  because  it  did  not  occur  to  the  inven- 
tor to  put  the  eye  of  the  needle  next  to  the 
point.  If  he  had  gone  to  the  woods  in  June 
and  watched  the  birds  carrying  in  the  points  of 
their  bill-needles  the  threads  of  hair,  roots,  and 
twigs  in  and  out  in  circumferential  interlacings, 
weaving  a  structure  that  human  skill  cannot 
approach  unto,  the  problem  would  have  been 
solved  easier  and  earlier. 

A  most  important  appliance  in  mechanics, 
and  a  great  discovery  in  its  day,  is  the  knee- 

325 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


joint — as  old  as  Adam,  nay,  older,  for  it  was  in 
the  machinery  of  the  megatherium,  in  his  pre- 
Adamic,  paleozoic  peregrinations.  The  "ball 
and  socket  "  is  another  contribution  of  the  ani- 
mal frame  to  the  mechanical  service  of  man  ; 
and  microscopic  and  telescopic  science  finds  its 
lens  in  the  eyeball.  As  Dryden  says  : 

"  By  viewing  nature,  nature's  handmaid,  art, 

Makes  mighty  things  from  small  beginnings  grow  ; 
Thus  fishes  first  to  shipping  did  impart, 
Their  tail  the  rudder,  and  their  head  the  prow." 

The  hollow  columnar  structure,  as  combining 
the  greatest  strength  and  lightness,  finds  its  pro- 
totype in  the  bone,  while  the  frieze  of  the  Cor- 
inthian column  was  suggested  by  seeing  acanthus 
leaves  growing  around  a  vase.  And  as  for  sculpt- 
ure and  painting,  they  are  most  essentially  imi- 
tative, discriminatingly  reproductive  of  Nature's 
examples.  Some  one  has  said  that  it  requires 
more  skill  to  make  a  good  quotation  than  to  do 
original  thinking — which,  if  true,  is  very  flatter- 
ing to  mankind,  who  have  been  quoting  from 
Nature  steadily  for  six  thousand  years.  And 
the  famous  wise  man  of  antiquity  has  declared, 
"  The  thing  that  hath  been,  it  is  that  that  shall 
be :  and  that  which  is  done  is  that  which 

326 


December 

shall  be  done  :  and  there  is  no  new  thing  under 
the  sun." 


While  it  is  true  that  the  chief  pleasure  of 
field  ornithology  is  derived  from  personal  re- 
search, yet,  for  the  wise  direction  of  one's  ef- 
forts, and  for  information  on  such  points  as  fail 
to  come  within  his  own  observation,  a  hand- 
book is  indispensable.  Investigation  in  this 
science  has  been  more  thorough  in  the  eastern 
part  of  the  United  States  than  elsewhere  in 
America,  and  there  are  several  reference-books, 
reliable  and  interestingly  written,  regarding  the 
birds  to  be  found  in  New  England  and  the 
Eastern  and  Middle  States.  A  thorough  stu- 
dent desires  to  consult  various  authorities,  but 
a  single  good  work  will  ordinarily  suffice. 

Expense  and  completeness  taken  into  ac- 
count, the  best  hand-book  for  the  land-birds  of 
the  Northeastern  States  is  Minot's  "Land  and 
Game  Birds  of  New  England  "  (Estes  &  Lau- 
riat).  This  really  suffices  for  a  much  larger  area 
than  New  England,  for  the  species  that  summer 
only  in  the  extreme  Northern  States  are  seen  as 
migrants  in  more  southerly  latitudes,  and  there 
are  few  that  summer  in  the  Middle  Atlantic 

327 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


and  interior  States  that  do  not  penetrate  at 
least  a  little  way  up  the  Valley  of  the  Connecti- 
cut, and  are  thus  included  among  the  New 
England  birds.  One  feature  of  this  book  espe- 
cially valuable  to  the  beginner  is  a  register  con- 
taining the  species  that  may  be  expected  on 
each  month  of  the  year,  with  approximate  dates 
of  arrival  and  departure,  and  times  of  nesting. 
For  the  latitude  of  New  York,  of  course  the 
dates  of  arrival  and  departure  will  be  respec- 
tively earlier  and  later  by  a  few  days. 

In  studying  the  water-fowl,  recourse  must  be 
had  to  some  other  work,  and  a  very  satisfactory 
one,  treating  of  the  land-birds  as  well,  is  "  New 
England  Bird  Life,"  by  W.  A.  Stearns,  edited 
by  Elliott  Coues  (2  vols.,  Lee  &  Shepard). 
But  as  far  as  land-birds  are  concerned,  Mi- 
not's  work  is  preferable.  Another,  that  cov- 
ers the  same  ground  as  the  one  by  Stearns,  in 
one  volume,  is  Samuel's  "  Birds  of  New  Eng- 
land." * 

The  most  complete  work  on  the  subject  is 
the  large  volume  by  Elliott  Coues,  recently 

*A  valuable  work  entitled  "  Our  Common  Birds,  and 
How  to  Know  Them,"  by  John  B.  Grant  (Charles  Scrib- 
ner's  Sons),  combines  a  set  of  photographic  illustrations 
with  a  brief  description  of  the  birds. 

328 


December 

published,  entitled  "  Key  to  North  American 
Birds  "  (Estes  &  Lauriat).  The  physical  de- 
scriptions in  this  are  extremely  accurate,  but 
the  accounts  of  their  habits  are  very  brief.  It 
is  valuable  as  being  the  highest  authority  on  all 
North  American  birds,  and  also  contains  much 
that  is  interesting  in  the  more  scientific  aspects 
of  the  subject. 

If  one  is  only  dabbling  in  the  study,  he  will 
probably  content  himself  with  learning  merely 
the  popular  names  of  the  species,  with  little  re- 
gard to  their  relationships  ;  but  if  he  is  ambi- 
tious to  have  a  distinct  classification  of  them  in 
his  mind,  he  will  find  it  of  great  assistance  to 
master  the  scientific  names  as  well,  by  which 
the  relations  of  family,  genus,  and  species  will 
be  kept  constantly  in  view.  This  suggestion  is 
not  inconsistent  with  a  previous  criticism  of 
current  classification.  Even  a  poor  classifica- 
tion is  infinitely  better  than  none ;  and  the 
present  grouping  is  far  from  poor,  as  its  mis- 
take (if  a  layman  may  be  allowed  to  pass  judg- 
ment) is  probably  not  so  much  in  asserting  false 
relationships,  as  in  adopting,  to  some  extent, 
principles  of  classification  which  are  not  truly 
fundamental.  And  moreover,  whether  it  be  a 
weakness  or  not,  there  t's  a  great  satisfaction, 

329 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


after  watching  and  listening,  for  example,  to  the 
wood  thrush,  complacently  and  learnedly  to  say 
to  one's  self,  Turdida  turdus  mustelinus — only 
its  official  tag,  as  it  were,  but  how  it  flatters  the 
mind  to  phrase  a  world  -  relationship  in  pon- 
derous Latinity  ! 

It  remains  to  speak  of  an  important  aid  to 
the  student  in  another  class  of  books,  less  tech- 
nical and  less  directly  educational  in  design, 
but  of  greater  literary  pretension  and  worth — 
books  that  in  some  ways  afford  as  much  inspir- 
ation to  the  reader  to  pursue  this  line  of  study 
as  he  will  find  in  the  results,  however  delight- 
ful, of  personal  investigation, — those  books  in 
which  he  holds  intercourse  with  Nature  through 
the  eyes  and  ears  of  a  writer  whose  senses  are 
more  keen  than  his  own,  whose  mind  is  more 
discerning,  whose  spirit  is  more  appreciative  of 
the  finest  touches  of  beauty,  and  whose  oppor- 
tunities of  investigation  have  been  mo"re  varied 
and  ample.  Such  books  are  spiritual  pabu- 
lum, a  finer  revelation  than  can  ever  be  com- 
pressed into  the  formalities  of  a  text-book, 
transferring  the  reader  to  higher  points  of 
vision  than  he  can  attain  with  his  unripe  expe- 
rience. 

Pre-eminent  among  other   well-known   and 

330 


December 

able  writers  of  this  class  is  that  last  and  best 
prose-poet  of  our  times,  Mr.  John  Burroughs, 
a  sort  of  high-priest  in  Nature's  temple,  a  ver- 
itable seer.  The  atmosphere  of  one  of  his 
books  is  as  refreshing  as  a  week's  outing ;  his 
descriptions  are  panoramic,  the  delicacy  of 
sentiment  and  felicity  of  expression  unsur- 
passed, with  here  and  there  a  subtle  turn  in  the 
phrase  that  sparkles  like  a  jewel.  Combining 
scientific  accuracy  with  a  poet's  intensity  of 
feeling,  he  is  too  well  balanced  and  too  honest 
ever  to  allow  a  fact  to  be  distorted  in  order  to 
extract  therefrom  a  finer  sentiment.  His  writ- 
ings rest  upon  a  solid  foundation  of  rugged  com- 
mon-sense, and  are  written  in  a  warm,  trans- 
parent and  invigorating  style,  without  a  taint 
of  self-consciousness. 

Like  the  best  landscape  pictures,  his  works 
seem  to  have  been  produced  out-of-doors.  The 
song  of  birds  and  aroma  of  flowers  echoes  and 
exhales  from  every  page  —  an  inimitable  tran- 
script of  nature.  With  keen  intellect,  sensitive 
spirit,  wide  experience,  and  deep  sympathies, 
a  commanding  and  lovable  personality  stands 
behind  his  works,  re-enforcing  all  that  he  ut- 
ters. To  his  writings  more  than  to  any  other 
of  the  same  class  are  Thoreau's  words  applica- 

331 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


ble "  Books  of  natural  history  make  the  most 

cheerful  winter  reading." 

i 

December  birds  are  happily  ignorant  of,  or 
nobly  superior  to,  the  dreariness  of  the  coming 
season,  and  the  contagion  of  their  cheerfulness 
is  compensation  for  many  a  winter's  walk  in 
the  by-ways  and  the  woods.  The  most  abun- 
dant throughout  the  month  were  the  white- 
throats,  with  tarnished  head  -  gear,  and  the 
snow-birds,  always  spruce  in  appearance,  and 
"showing  the  white  feather"  in  retreat.  A 
pair  of  fox  sparrows  seem  to  have  resolved  to 
test  the  gayety  of  New  York  winter-life,  for  I 
have  seen  them  from  time  to  time,  up  to  the 
2oth.  Golden-crowned  kinglets  are  numerous, 
and  the  chickadee,  singly  or  in  pairs,  is  some- 
times hilarious  with  his  dee,  dee,  dee,  or  in  qui- 
eter mood  is  heard  chanting  a  very  different 
song  with  delicate  tone  and  modulation.  Gold- 
finches are  roaming  about  in  flocks  in  the  tops 
of  the  trees,  the  European  species  the  happier 
of  the  two,  judging  from  their  luscious  chatter. 
Robins  are  among  the  rarities,  a  single  spe- 
cimen, on  the  24th,  in  a  tree-top  uttering  his 
call-note  with  great  unction,  A  single  che- 

332 


December 

wink  seems  stranded  here  for  the  winter,  but 
has  fallen  among  white-throated  friends,  and 
appears  in  no  wise  disconsolate.  A  field  spar- 
row showed  itself  a  couple  of  days  early  in  the 
month,  and  the  hermit  thrush  was  last  seen  on 
the  yth.  What  seemed  to  be  a  pair  of  yellow- 
rumps  were  found  on  the  i3th,  and  the  song 
sparrow  occasionally  until  the  2 5th,  while  the 
cardinals  have  returned  to  their  winter-quar- 
ters in  the  Ramble.  Among  the  larger  species 
were  gulls  and  crows,  with  an  occasional  coarse, 
loud  tone  from  a  tree -top  that  revealed  the 
golden-winged  woodpecker,  which,  on  the  wing, 
sometimes  gives  a  delightfully  mellow  note, 
showing  the  folly  of  forcing  the  tone. 

In  walking  through  the  Park  on  the  28th, 
a  rather  sizable  bird  flew  over  my  head  and 
lighted  in  a  distant  tree.  If  robins  had  been 
plentiful  I  should  have  thought  this  to  be  one, 
as  it  was  about  as  large,  and  yet  with  some- 
thing unusual  in  its  appearance  that  made  me 
curious  to  follow  it  up.  It  showed  little  timid- 
ity, but  still  kept  a  sharp  eye  on  me  as  I  recon- 
noitred close  enough  to  see  that  its  plumage 
was  dingy  white  beneath  and  ashy  above  ;  not 
a  robin  certainly,  possibly  a  shrike.  '  At  that 
instant  it  flew  out  of  sight,  but  following  its 

333 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


direction  I  soon  found  it  perching  in  a  low 
bush,  furtively  looking  about  and  jerking  its 
tail  like  a  cat-bird.  I  mentally  requested  him 
to  hold  his  head  still  for  examination,  for  the 
characteristic  markings  of  a  bird  radiate  from 
the  seat  of  intelligence.  A  shrike's  bill  is 
stout,  and  curved  at  the  end,  and  a  black  stripe 
passes  through  the  eye ;  this  one's  bill  was 
straight  and  slender,  and  the  side  of  the  face  of 
uniform  color  ;  while  in  flying  off  again  it  dis- 
closed pure  white  outer  tail-feathers,  with  much 
white  on  the  remainder, — no  shrike,  but  the 
mocking-bird  ! — the  genius  of  the  thrush  fam- 
ily,— the  cat-bird,  before  the  latter  fell  from 
grace.  But  what  brought  him  to  New  York 
the  last  of  December  ?  It  is  a  thoroughly 
Southern  species,  and  it  is  quite  the  thing  to 
explain  its  occasional  appearance  in  the  North- 
ern States,  and  especially  in  winter,  by  calling 
it  an  escaped  caged  specimen ;  an  inference 
that  seems  somehow  to  detract  not  a  little  from 
the  credit  of  finding  it.  But  I  am  convinced 
that  in  the  present  instance  such  a  supposition 
is  an  injustice  both  to  the  bird  and  to  myself. 
Without  any  doubt,  this  particular  specimen 
wandered  up  from  the  South  entirely  of  its  own 
volition,  and  lingered  about  the  Park  for  my 

334 


December 

special  benefit — a  sort  of  Christmas  present,  a 
little  belated  in  the  delivery. 

My  last  tour  of  observation  for  the  year  was 
taken  on  the  3oth  in  a  genuine  snow-storm,  the 
air  still  and  full  of  flakes — more  favorable  for 
finding  birds  than  a  clear  but  windy  day.  The 
chickadee  was  chanting  its  brief  and  gentle 
carol  near  a  brown  creeper  that  was  just  start- 
ing at  the  bottom  of  a  tree  for  his  endless  as- 
cent. Numerous  white  -  throats  were  busily 
scratching  among  the  leaves,  and  fraternizing 
with  the  solitary  chewink,  who  will  doubtless 
remain  here  through  the  winter,  unless  driven 
away  by  extreme  cold ;  and,  lastly,  a  cardinal 
grosbeak  was  flitting  from  tree  to  tree  in  lively 
fashion,  uttering  his  loud,  rich  call-note. 


335 


Postlude 


The  day  is  ending, 
The  night  is  descending; 
The  marsh  is  frozen, 
The  river  dead." 

Longfellow. 


POSTLUDE 

jHE  following  list  summarizes  the 
observations  of  the  year,  so  far  as 
that  can  be  done  by  the  mere  enu- 
meration of  names  ; — not  a  remark- 
able showing,  for  it  contains  few  species  that 
are  unusual,  and  omits  many  that  are  well 
known ;  yet  proving  more  conclusively  than 
were  otherwise  possible  in  the  same  space,  what 
a  varied  and  abundant  source  of  instructive 
pleasure  is  afforded  all  about  for  those  who  will 
accept  Nature's  constant  but  unobtrusive  invi- 
tations. With  about  half  a  dozen  exceptions 
they  were  all  found  in  the  Ramble. 

Thrush  Family  (38).*  Mocking-bird. 

Wood  Thrush.  Cat-bird. 

Wilson's  Thrush.  Thrasher. 

Olive-backed  Thrush.  Bluebird. 

Hermit  Thrush.  Ruby-crowned  Kinglet. 

Robin.  Golden -crowned  Kinglet. 

*  The  figures  after  each  family  indicate  the  number  of 
species  in  the  family  to  be  found  in  North  America. 

339 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


Titmouse      or      Chickadee 

Family   (17). 

Black-capped  Titmouse  or 
Chickadee. 

Nuthatch  Family  (5). 
White-breasted  Nuthatch. 
Red-breasted  Nuthatch. 

Creeper  Family  (2). 
Brown  Creeper. 

Wren  Family  (19). 
House  Wren. 

Warbler  Family  (62). 

Black-and-white  Creeper. 

Blue  Yellow-backed  War- 
bler. 

Blue-winged  Yellow  War- 
bler. 

Nashville  Warbler. 

Black-throated  Green  War- 
bler. 

Black-throated  Blue  War- 
bler. 

Yellow-rumped  Warbler. 

Blackburnian  Warbler. 

Black-poll  Warbler. 

Bay-breasted  Warbler. 

Chestnut-sided  Warbler. 

Magnolia  Warbler. 

Prairie  Warbler. 


Yellow  Red-poll  Warbler. 

Pine-creeping  Warbler. 

Golden-crowned  Warbler 
(Oven-bird). 

Wagtail  Warbler. 

Hooded  Warbler. 

Black-capped  Flycatching 
Warbler. 

Canadian  Flycatching  War- 
bler. 

Summer  Yellow-bird. 

Maryland  Yellow-throat. 

Yellow-breasted  Chat. 

Redstart. 

Tanager  Family  (5). 
Scarlet  Tanager. 

Swallow  Family  (7). 
Barn  Swallow. 
White-breasted  Swallow. 
Cliff  Swallow. 
Bank  Swallow. 

Waxwing  Family  (4). 
Cedar-bird. 

Vireo  or  Greenlet 

Family  (16). 
Red-eyed  Vireo. 
Warbling  Vireo. 
Yellow-throated  Vireo. 
Solitary  Vireo. 


340 


Postlude 

Shrike  Family  (3).  Flycatcher  Family  (31). 

Great  Northern  Shrike  or    Great  Crested  Flycatcher. 


Butcher-bird. 

Least  Flycatcher. 

Wood  Pewee. 

Finch  Family  (123). 

Phoebe. 

Purple  Finch. 

King-bird. 

Red  Crossbill. 

American  Goldfinch. 

Goatsucker  Family  (8). 

European  Goldfinch. 

Whippoorwill. 

Grass     Finch     or    Vesper 

Night-hawk. 

Sparrow. 

Song  Sparrow. 

Swift  Family  (4). 

Snow-bird. 

Chimney  Swift. 

Chipping  Sparrow. 

Field  Sparrow. 

Humming  -  bird     Family 

White-throated  Sparrow. 

(15). 

Fox  Sparrow. 

Ruby-throated    Humming- 

Rose-breasted Grosbeak. 

bird. 

Cardinal  Grosbeak. 

Indigo-bird. 

Kingfisher  Fa-nily  (2). 

Towhee  Bunting  or  Che- 

wink. 

Belted  Kingfisher. 

American   Starling  Fami-      Woodpecker  Family  (19). 

fy  (26)-  Downy  Woodpecker. 

Bobolink.  Yellow-bellied   Woodpeck- 

Red-winged  Blackbird.  er. 

Baltimore  Oriole.  Golden-winged  Woodpeck- 

Purple  Crackle.  er- 

Crow  Family  (25).  Hawk  Family  (4). 

Common  Crow.  A  young  Hawk   (unidenti- 

Blue  Jay.  fied). 


The  Birds'  Calendar 


Pheasant  Family  (o).  Heron  Family  (13). 

Peacock  *  Black-crowned  Night  Her- 

on. 

^      .,   ,    .          Green  Heron. 
Grouse  Family  (25). 

Virginia    Partridge    (Bob-          Dwk  Family  (5»). 
white).  Mute  Swan.* 

Black  Swan.* 

Snipe  Family  (43).  Canada  Goose. 

Solitary  Sandpiper.  Gull  Family  (46). 

Spotted  Sandpiper.  Herring  Gull. 

— with  an  unexplored  remainder  of  three  spe- 
cies which  could  not  be  determined. 

It  is  with  a  feeling  of  mortification  that  I 
record  the  fact  that  another's  eyes  were  more 
fortunate  than  mine  in  finding  that  rara  avis, 
the  Cape  May  warbler  {Dendroicatigrind),  and 
also  the  more  common  "  worm-eating  war- 
bler." But  my  chagrin  is  somewhat  alleviated 
by  the  circumstance  that  my  friend  missed  see- 
ing my  purple  finches,  crossbills,  and  mocking- 
bird. Forgive  me  this  unholy  satisfaction  ! 


In  these  closing  hours  of  the  old  year  the 
tide  is  out,  and  the  sky  is  cold  and  dark.     But 

*  Indigenous  in  the  Old  World. 
342 


Postlude 

after  a  brief  period  of  "  frost,  of  storm,  and 
cloudiness,"  the  soft,  reviving  glow  of  spring 
will  overspread  the  sky,  and  the  southern  ocean 
will  send  back  its  waves — waves  of  thrushes, 
finches,  warblers,  and  the  rest — birds  of  wood- 
land, shore,  and  sea;  many  of  them  doubly 
welcome  as  old  friends,  with  here  and  there  a 
stranger  in  the  throng  to  give  the  zest  of  nov- 
elty ;  and,  as  courier  of  all  the  host,  like  a  bene- 
diction of  dying  Winter  on  the  head  of  Spring, 
Hope's  special  messenger — the  song  sparrow  ! 


343 


INDEX 


INDEX 


ADAPTATION  of  nature  to       Birds,  longevity  of,  324. 

life,  184.                                      mating  of,  35,  115,  323. 

Advice  to  a  beginner  in  Or- 

plumage of,  29,  74,  100, 

nithology,    19,   24,   32, 

140,  144,  159,  205.  258, 

3°4.  327- 

296. 

progression  of,  on   foot, 

BIRD-LIST,  ambition  for  a 

281. 

large,  171. 

progression    of,    on    the 

for  January,  41. 

wing,  282. 

for  March,  96. 

service  rendered  by,  65, 

for  April  loth,  116. 

282. 

for  April  29th,  129. 

songs  of,   114,   117,   147, 

for  April,  131. 

236-  3°9>  3"- 

for  September  28th,  263. 

stuffed,  10. 

for  the  year,  339. 

wading    and    swimming, 

Bird-type,  variations  of,  64. 

124. 

Birds,  association  of,  27. 

Birds'-  eggs,  322. 

favorite,  of  every  land,  79, 

Birds'-nests,     location     of, 

310. 

3I3- 

in  mid-summer,  193,  255. 

materials  of,  319. 

in  spring,  81. 

varieties  of,  315. 

in  winter,  24,  32,  57,  92, 

Blackbird,  Crow,  87,  253. 

296. 

Red-winged,  91,  254. 

instinct  of,  177,  258,  262, 

Bluebird,  233,  293. 

312,  320. 

Bobolink,  236. 

land  and  water,  124. 

Bob-  white,  246. 

347 


Index 


Brown    Creeper,    28,   101, 

261. 

Burroughs,  John,  331. 
Butcher  -  bird       (Northern 

Shrike),  83. 

CARDINAL,  30,    116,    217, 

281. 

Catbird,  40,  194. 
Cedar-bird    (Cherry-bird), 

63,  64. 
Central  Park,  scenes  in,  58, 

76,  265. 

Chat,  Yellow-breasted,  161. 
Chewink    (Towhee),     128, 

205,  332. 

Chickadee,  85,  286,  293. 
Classification  of  birds,  46, 

124,  142,  329. 
instinct  for,  45. 
Composites,  268. 
Cow,  the,  230. 
Creation,  fundamental  prin- 
ciples in,  178. 
Creeper,  Black-and- White, 

127. 

Brown,  28,  101,  261. 
Pine,  109. 
Crossbill,  Red,  74,  112. 

White-winged,  75. 
Crow,  Common,  37. 

DANDELION,  73,  294. 

EMERSON,   RALPH    WAL- 
DO, 86,  235. 


FINCH,  PURPLE,  118,  130, 
234- 

Finches,  the,  80, 107. 

Flycatchers,   Great  Crest- 
ed, 145,  180. 
Least,  150. 

Flycatchers,  the,  93,  180. 

Force,  indestructibility  of, 


GNAT  -  CATCHER,    BLUB- 

GRAY,  104. 
Goldfinch,    American,    61, 

101,  148,  216. 
European,  59,  66,  85. 
Goose,  Canada,  210. 
Crackle,  Purple,  87,  253. 
Grosbeak,  Cardinal,  30, 116, 

217,  281. 

Rose-breasted,  163. 
Gull,  Herring,  31,  294. 

HAWK,  39. 
Heron,  Green,  140. 

Night,  122,  151. 
Herons,  the,  123. 
Humming  -  bird,        Ruby- 
throated,  151,  318. 
Humming-birds,   the,    153. 

INDIGO-BIRD,  158. 
Inflorescence     in    autumn, 
268. 

JAY,  BLUE,  91,  241. 
KING-BIRD,  231. 


348 


Index 


Kingfisher,  Belted,  142,228. 
Kinglet,    Golden-crowned,    ' 

25,  101,  103,  263. 
Ruby-crowned,  102,  145, 

280. 

MANKIND,  from  a  bird's 
point  of  view,  211. 

March,  character  of,  78. 

Melumbium  speciosum, 
267. 

Migrations  of  birds,  48, 
152,  176,  253,  254,  256. 

Mocking-bird,  333. 

NATURE,  from  a  farmer's 

point  of  view,  65,  237. 
infinity  of  life  in,  308. 
inventions  borrowed  from. 

325- 

Nidification,  311,  322. 
Night-hawk,  185. 
Nuthatch,    Red  -  breasted, 

120. 
White-breasted,   34,  102, 


ORIOLE,  BALTIMORE,  197, 

Ornithology,  attractions  of, 
7,  146,  297,  307. 

books  upon,  12,  327. 

school  and  field,  5,  303. 

scientific,  6. 

opportunities  for,  12. 
Oven-bird,  130,  143,  262. 


PEACOCK,  201. 
Pewee,  Wood,  164,  182. 
Phoebe,  93,  94,  102,  114. 
Pigeons,  the,  37. 

REDSTART,  145,  200. 
Robin,  62,  82,  90,  138,  220, 

SIS- 
utility  of  the,  285. 

SANDPIPER,      SOLITARY, 

228,  261. 
Spotted,  126. 
Sandpipers,  the,  126. 
Scope  of  present  volume, 

ix,  13- 

Seasons,  advantage   in  al- 
ternation of,  71. 
comparison  of  the,  273. 
Sentiment  versus  science, 

267. 

Sexes,  disparity  of,  in  plu- 
mage, 74. 
Shrikes,  the,  84. 
Simplocarpus  fcetidus,  95. 
Snow-bird,  40,  62,  90,  280. 
Sounds  of  day  and  night, 

245- 
Sparrow,    Chipping,     105, 

244. 

English,  42,  156. 
Field,  128. 

Fox,  89,  117.  293,  332. 
Song,  40,  62,  77,  78,  zoo, 

294. 
Tree,  106. 


349 


Index 


Sparrow,    Vesper     (Grass 

Finch),  243. 
White-throated,    23,    99, 

145,  158,  262,  263. 
Sparrows,  the,  21,  80. 
Starling,  European,  105. 
Summer  Yellow-bird,  202, 

253- 
Swallow,  Bank,  146,  227. 

Barn,  145. 

Cliff,  229,  317. 

White-breasted,  119,  254. 
Swallows,  the,  146. 
Swans,  the,  61,  95. 
Swift,  Chimney  (Swallow), 

164. 
Swifts,  the,  164. 


TANAGER,  SCARLET,  148. 
Tanagers,  the,  149. 
Thoreau,  137. 
Thrasher,  131. 
Thrush,  Brown  (Thrasher), 

131- 

Golden -crowned  (Oven- 
bird),  7,  143,  262. 

Hermit,  112,  159,  294. 

Olive  -  backed,    55,    158, 
188. 

Water  (Wagtail),  155. 

Wilson's  (Veery),  130. 

Wood  (Song),   130,   159, 

219,  236. 

Thrushes,  the,  219. 
Trees,  the,  289. 


VACATION-DAYS,  225. 
Ventriloquism  ofbirds,  277. 
Vireo,  Red-eyed,  163,  164, 
208,  209. 

Solitary,  207,  209. 

Warbling,  163,  209. 

Yellow-throated,  158,  207. 
Vireos,  the,  162,  207. 

WAGTAIL,  WATER,  155. 
Warbler,      Bay  -  breasted, 
165,  175- 

Black-and-white     Creep- 
ing, 127. 

Black-and-yellow     (Mag- 
nolia), 150. 

Black-poll,  56,  173. 

Black-throated  Blue,  130, 
iS3.  265. 

Black  -  throated      Green, 
130,  260. 

Blackburnian,  154. 

Blue  Yellow-backed,  128. 

Blue-winged  Yellow,  158. 

Canada  Flycatching,  161. 

Chestnut-sided,  158,  165. 

Golden,  202,  253. 

Golden-crowned,  130, 143. 

Golden-winged,  155. 

Hooded,  139. 

Maryland  Yellow-throat- 
ed, 130,  203. 

Nashville,  164. 

Pine-creeping,  109. 

Prairie,  131. 

Wagtail,  155. 


350 


Index 


Warbler,   Wilson's   Black- 
cap, 160. 

Yellow  Red-poll,  in. 
Yellow-rumped,  119,  159, 

293- 

Warblers,  the,  106,  204. 
Wax-wings,  the,  63. 
Whippoorwill,  244. 
Winter,  301. 
Woodpecker,    Downy,   34, 

66,264. 


Woodpecker,      Golden- 
winged,  35,  101. 

Yellow-bellied,  112. 
Woodpeckers,  the,  35,  264. 
Wordsworth,  240. 
Wren,  House,  157. 

Marsh,  316. 

Winter,  157. 

I    YEAR,  growth  and  decline 
of  the,  259. 


3SI 


